The Key
by born to be hanged
Summary: CURRENTLY BEING REVISED ...creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission from Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The holder passed the key to his daughter before he died. Full summary inside.
1. Summary

**Disclaimer: **I own none of Tolkien's Lord of the Rings characters; I only own my new character (s).

**Disclaimer:** There was a feud upon the last name of my original character. I have never read Tamora Pierce's The Immortals. I trust those who told me that the name "Veralidaine" belonged to her. My character is in no way related to Pierce's character. I do not own the name. This disclaimer is for the whole story.

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Warning (s):** Some language; may be considered minor to some, but not so to others. Suggestion of a mature theme.

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note: **This was my first work in progress. I had no idea what a "Mary Sue" was at the time that I first posted this, but now that I know, I consider it a bit of an insult. This is possibly because when someone calls out "Mary Sue!", it _is_ more of an insult than just a statement. I guess you could say that this story would be categorized as a "Mary Sue" story, or that my original character is a Mary Sue. (I feel bad for the girl whose name was Mary Sue. Very unfortunate for her. ;)) I will not argue anymore, because the definition of a Mary Sue is made only of opinion. Some people think that a Mary Sue is the perfect girl. My opinion: a Mary Sue is a character. What kind of character? Well, there are so many different kinds. My conclusion is that Tolkien purists just don't _like_ to see a whole different character formed and placed into Middle-earth that was not originally placed there by Tolkien himself. Therefore, they made up a name calling system. This is hard to explain, so I apologize if this doesn't make sense.

The point of my rant. (Is there a point? lol j/k) If you review just to tell me that my story or my character is a Mary Sue, this will most definitely not be constructive criticism, for I already comprehend that it can most certainly be categorized as this. If you are to review, and you are absolutely set on telling me that which I already know, please contribute a second point to your review. There, I believe I have chatted for long enough.

Therefore I shall shut up for now. I have a large tendency to blab. I'm Italian. I like to talk and feed people.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, it'll probably be down there, just not marked. **Before you review, please read these notes. They are very important explanations for my motives.** Of course, if you're a knowledged Tolkien fan, maybe you won't have to read all of it. But in any case….

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

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**Summary of The Key**

Lalaine Veralidaine is your average American punk, good-for-nothing, futureless teen, right? _Wrong!_ Well, she is all that, but she also happens to be the keeper of a key by coincidental inheritance. A key to open the skies. _I' tanwe a' edro i' menel._

Along with the creation of Eä, Ilúvatar created a fourth theme of the Ainulindalë that presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions. These portals, comprised of the elements of time and energy, could be activated by the Ainur and Ilúvatar. But to create balance, a small device was created to allow some of the inhabitants of Arda access to another dimension in case of a severe predicament. Only then was the holder permitted to call for the Ainur's assistance to activate the instrument.

Arnatur, an Elf of Rivendell, was assigned the mission of transporting this key from Rivendell to the Lady of the Light, who resided in the land of Lórien. The passage was dangerous, for the power of the Dark Lord Sauron was ever increasing through the years. The enemy and his spies lurked in every darkened area of undergrowth. The decision that a small group of companions would attract less attention than a large one had been made. Arnatur was made the leader of a group of five others.

Their path was carefully planned out. Taking hidden pathways, the selected Elves would travel swiftly across the land. But the power of Sauron was more aware than was predicted, and he was able to identify the exact locations of the paths they were to take. Sauron was ever searching for the One Ring, his private possession that he longed to find. To have the small instrument made by Ilúvatar and the Ainur would provide endless allies, even if they were forced, and endless resources, all that would aid him in the repossession of the One Ring, his ultimate goal. Domination of the key would give Sauron the equivalent to a safe haven with a closed entrance to his prying enemies. If he succeeded, he would find this to be an additional gain.

Only years before their mission to overtake the current holder of the One Ring, the Nazgûl rode to the paths just beyond the valley of Rivendell, where a sincere farewell was being made. The daughter Lalaine and mortal wife Tarvalie Veralidaine of Arnatur had been permitted to watch the departure of their loved one.

But the Nazgûl and a party of orcs intruded, and the surrounding Elven scouts quickly fought to defend their lives as well as the two females'. Arnatur fled, knowing that the Black Riders and the orcs would follow, their purpose to seek the key. During the battle, Tarvalie Veralidaine was murdered, and Arnatur was eventually slain, but he survived long enough to perform one last significant action.

Young Lalaine Veralidaine was able to find her dying father hiding in a patch of undergrowth. Using the last of his strength, the Elf put the chain around his daughter's neck, praying to Ilúvatar for assistance to open a portal, knowing that if he lingered with the key remaining around his neck, it would be taken, along with his daughter's life. Assistance was granted, and the holder of the key was enveloped within a portal. His soul passed into the Halls of Mandos before the Black Riders found him.

Furious though the Dark Lord was, he soon realized that no amount of fury would bring the key to his hand. Abandoning his thoughts of the key for the time being, he employed another to uncover a way to transport the key back to Middle-earth, along with its temporary holder, the child of Arnatur.

Years later, a strategy was proposed, and performed, though not in perfection. Lalaine Veralidaine was pulled into a portal that was torn open by force. Though she was back in her native land, and therefore back within his reach, the torn portal rebelled. The energy was shifted to open into a distant land far from the Dark Tower.

Once Lalaine is thrust into the dimension of Eä, she encounters the Nazgûl, but is rescued by the Fellowship. At first, they only plan to see that she is safe in a nearby village, so that they may continue on their quest. But the Company soon finds out who she is, what she has, and why she must not be found by Sauron.

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**Author's Note:** Ok, there was obviously some argument about my character remaining with the Fellowship. I never said she would. Lalaine will _not _stay with the Fellowship. Just wanted to clear that up for anyone that was wondering. Their purpose is to lead her to safety before resuming their original purpose.

These explanations are for those that are not experts on Middle-earth. I myself did not know any of this stuff until I was fortunate enough to come across a reference book. What can I say? I'm slow. ;) Most of this information is from The Complete Guide to Middle-earth by Robert Foster. Please do not take the following thorough information as an insult towards anyone's intelligence of Tolkien's work. These explanations allow readers who have not read the books and are basing their knowledge off of the movies to understand the story.

**_I' tanwe a' edro i' menel._ **- Quenya for "A key/device to open the skies heavens." I pieced this together with the help of a translator, so if it is incorrect, please tell me in a review. Quenya is the ancient language of Middle-earth, sort of like the equivalent of Latin.

**Ainulindal** - The Great Music sung by the Ainur (angelic spirits, offspring of the thought of Ilúvatar), the development of the three themes of Ilúvatar. The **first theme **was created by Ilúvatar, but developed by the Ainur, and presented the form of Eä. It was ruined by the conflict of Melkor. The **second theme **indicated the shaping of Arda. The **third theme **(the Ainur did not participate) dealt with the creation of the Children of Ilúvatar and their history up to the Dominion of Men.

Before you through tomatoes at me for creating a fourth verse/theme, the creation of other dimensions, consider that entertainment is not flawless. I admit that this story is not completely according to canon. This is my warning. For the sake of entertainment and a tale, I shall alter a small portion of the canon, which is not really altering it at all, but adding to it. "A storyteller is a bit of a seer, a bit of a doer, and a bit of a liar." - Bess the Bard. There you go. You can call me a liar.

**Eä**- the Creation of Ilúvatar, which comprises Arda and the heavens (Ilmen or menel).

**Ainur** - Angelic spirits created by the thought of Ilúvatar. A select few became the Valar, their purpose to fulfill the Ainulindalë in Eä. Others, such was Ungoliant and the Balrogs, came to Eä to obstruct the Ainulindalë and/or destroy the Light (examples: Melkor and Sauron).

**Nazgu****l** - the nine Black Riders, Ringwraiths


	2. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I own absolutely nothing of the Lord of the Rings or any of Tolkien's brilliant world.

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (an R chapter is possible; there will be a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Any feedback is greatly appreciated.

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

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**Prologue**

**Enveloped in the Midst of Energy and Time**

I remember a world full of vivid colors and happiness, luscious forests and clear skies, songs of sweet melody and grand tales of glory and adventure. There was a small home surrounded by gardens, with soft soil and grass on which to play. There were candlelit dinners in the midst of cheerfulness. There was laughter and kisses and many embraces. And the most of what I remember were the soft words spoken in my ear. Though they were not always in the same tongue, they always held the same amount of softness and love.

My last memory of dwelling amongst these blessings is the most vibrant one that remains.

A hand grasped mine firmly and with tension, as though its owner was anxious. I squeezed my mother's hand, and gave her a bright smile, as though encouraging her that Ada would return safely, although to this day I do not know where he had been headed. Or, for that matter, why I had called my father Ada. I have assumed thus far that it had been an invented name.

There was suddenly a great amount of noise, more noise than I was used to. For my world of colors and sweet melody was very tranquil and muted. Only the footsteps of my mother could be heard throughout the entire city, save perhaps for mine. But the noise came from the sources of the beings that brought darkness and death. An arrow was shot through the still air. The once steady hand that enclosed mine jerked violently. I felt the anxious tension of my mother's hand loosen considerably, and then I felt a tug from her. I tightened my hand on instinct, but it slid from my touch. I knelt to the ground, covering my mother's body with mine, feeling the warm liquid pool around us.

An unknown hand guided me into strong arms, and I was brushed to the side, escaping death. I turned my head, my eye catching the blur of my Ada fleeing, his arm clutching his side, his face ashen. Shortly after his departure, the beings bringing death followed. I dashed after my Ada, taking care to pass through the trees and not by the paths.

Swirls of color surrounded me, many different shades of green clouding my vision. But a crimson pool caught my eye, and I was lead towards it. There I found my Ada, hidden underneath many bushes and plants.

"Ada, they shall see the red pool!" I whispered, crawling out of view of outsiders also. I frowned, seeing that he was the grand source of the pool of crimson liquid. I felt my eyes fill with tears. The crimson pool was comprised of his blood.

His face was pallid, and he gave me a weak smile, looking as though it gave him great pain to do so. I put my head to his heart, finding that it was barely audible, even with my extensive hearing. Tears mingled with blood as my hair was soaked with scarlet, and I felt him move his arms to embrace me lightly. I felt him move slightly and a cold sensation was felt around my neck along with a small extra weight, but I paid no heed to it.

A hand was under my chin, lifting my face to look into his eyes. I was forced to watch as the life drained from his eyes, his face, his form. A smile still gracing his beautiful face, he closed his eyes and sang the last song of sweet melody that I would hear in a long time. Just before his song ceased, the once strong hand under my chin became lax, and I grabbed it, gently lowering it to the blood-covered ground.

The melody was concluded softly, and I waited patiently for my Ada to open his eyes, tears streaming from my own. But his eyes remained shut, and there was a stillness about his form. I lowered myself back onto his chest, pressing my cheek to the fabric and closing my eyes. A soft whisper came to my ears.

"_Amin__ mela lle.__ Merne tinwe Varda kalli. Velui a lalaith veren nalu govaded vin. Navaer, tinuamin."_

I opened my eyes, startled, for I was no longer over my father's heart. The words echoed in the timeless area of white mist and light that was not from the source in the skies. I could feel the energy of all that completed the land and water and air. And there was a sudden rush, though not of air, but of a more majestic and enigmatic substance. The minutes and hours and days and years and centuries flew past my fingertips, and only when I grasped for an opening was I permitted to exist.

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**Author's Note: **Any feedback is greatly appreciated. 

**"_Amin__ mela lle._****_ Merne tinwe Varda kalli. Velui a lalaith veren nalu govaded vin. Navaer, tinuamin."_** - In the language of Sindarin. Translation: "I love you. May the stars of Varda shine over you. Sweet water and joyous laughter until next we meet. Farewell, my daughter."


	3. The Assignment

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of Tolkien's brilliant world.

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating: **PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note: **For those faint at heart, there is strong language in this story. I myself am not fond of allowing characters to swear very much, mostly because this portrays that the author is unsophisticated and young enough to believe that swearing will make him or her appear older. But there was no way to substitute it without botching the proper portrayal of the main character. The only thing I can say is that I will not have her swear for no reason, there will always be a reason behind the language. This is my warning.

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

**

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Chapter One

**The Assignment**

"Tarea (homework)," Miss Corales stated primly, gently wavering her hand. I watched as the papers flopped around, her thumb creating a dent on top of it. I slumped back into my seat, languidly putting my boots up on the chair ahead of me. I watched as the girl in front of me, her back straight as a board, fidgeted in her seat a bit. I tilted my head back slightly, raising my eyebrows and waiting for her glare. I didn't move my feet.

"Sí , sí , yo sé (Yes, yes I know)," she continued, drawing my attention back to her neatly dressed figure. "Wa, wa, wa. ¡ Pero se divertirán con esta tarea! Ustedes harán un árbol genealógico. Ahora, quiero, hmmm…. Permítenme ver…. Okay, va tan lejos como posible con las generaciónes de sus familias. Y en Español, por favor. Y ahora, chicos, yo hablaré en inglés. (But you will have fun with this homework! You all will make a family tree. Now, I want, hmm…. Let me see…. Okay, go as far as possible with your family's generations. And in Spanish, please. And now, children, I will speak in English.) Tomorrow we shall be learning about how people in Spanish speaking countries name themselves."

I rolled my eyes to stare at to my right, easily annoyed by her slightly overly jovial attitude. But I knew I had more important matters to attend to. If I was correct in my very incorrect grammar and understanding of the Spanish language, Miss Corales had just told us to make a family tree. _Houston, we have a problem._

The bell rang, the sound making me jump slightly. Sharp sounds had always made me jerk. "Due tomorrow! Don't forget!" she said over the clatter of people cleaning up and rushing out of the classroom. The girl behind me stood quickly, and turned around rapidly, looking very stiff. Her chin was up, and she was looking down at me, her books set neatly in her arms.

"Do you _always_ have to put your feet on my chair?" she asked icily, the edge to her voice fitting nicely with her stiff poise. I sighed, knowing I looked as though I could care less.

"Yeah," I said lazily, keeping my boots on the now empty chair. I raised my eyebrows up at her, slumping myself a bit more in my own chair before deciding to stand before her. I stood at least two inches taller than she, and though I was thinner in frame, I felt as though I were towering over her. "Do you have a problem with that?" I knew she was too prim and proper to full out pick a fight with me, and I let myself have the satisfaction of watching her self-doubt express itself on her face.

She didn't answer right away. Instead, her eyes sweapt over me, regarding my pants at last. She looked up, and I suddenly knew that she was going to made a snide comment about something.

"You wore those pants yesterday," she said, lifting her chin and hugging a book to her chest.

"Yeah," I agreed, "and the day before, too." I challenged her with a glare. _Go on. Say something snotty so I can have an excuse to introduce you to Mr. Fist._ I raised my eyebrows again, waiting patiently for her to speak again. But it seemed that she was having trouble. _What's a matter? Cat got your tongue?_ I wanted so badly to say it, but she spoke before I could open my mouth. Maybe that was better; I often had trouble restraining myself. I had the unfortunate habit of looking for fights.

"Never mind," she muttered, and her head bent as she picked up her folder from the desk. Calm and collected though she seemed, I knew she was very annoyed. With a flick of her beautiful, silky hair and a look of contempt aimed towards me, she turned around and walked to the door with small, dainty steps. I could tell she was dying to get one last word in, so I waited patiently until she twirled around for the last time. "Good luck finding information on _your_ family," she jeered, no doubt hoping that her subtle hint had cut me.

I glared as she walked out of the room, then angrily picked my old book bag off of the floor with a violent jerk. _Oh, you did not just say that, you prissy little bitch!_ But she had. And she had reminded me of my inevitable dilemma. One of the main reasons why I strongly disliked school with a passion were the worthless assignments that some teachers thought were still necessary at my age. _I'm a senior in high school, and they still make us do family trees. Good grief._ Stupid though these assignments were, their stupidity was not the main reason for my hatred of them.

I looked up and took a deep breath to calm myself, lifting my chin. I strutted over to my Spanish teacher's desk, hoping I looked confident when in reality I was nervous. "Hey, Miss Corales-"

"¿Cómo? (What?)" she interrupted, her tone a bit exasperated. I sighed. She almost never allowed students to speak to her in English, because she wanted us to "learn to speak Spanish fluently." Though I had been in the class for over a month, I hadn't quite mastered the concept.

"Uh," I began, racking my brain for the right words. I almost always used incorrect grammar. Hence, one reason why I was definitely not one of her favorite students. "Señorita Corales, tengo una problema con… uh, el tarea. (Miss Corales, I have a problem with… uh, the homework.)" I could see the muscles in her brow tighten as she listened to my poor accent.

"No, Lalaine, it's _un_ problema, not una. That's an irregular noun.And tarea is feminine, so I believe the article in front of it should be _la_, not el. Say it again, correctly, por favor (please)," she commanded, without giving me so much of a glance as she continued to organize her bag.

I sighed irritably, already knowing that telling her about my problema was not going to be pleasant. "Tengo un problema con el- I mean, _la_ tarea (I have a problem with the homework)," I repeated, a bit peeved that I'd forgotten the feminine article yet again. _And right after she reminded you. Idiot._

She sighed, switching back to English for my sake. Or maybe she thought me incapable of understanding something, and whatever she had to say was important. "No, Lalaine, I really don't want to hear it this time." She pulled out a black notebook. The grade book. She opened it to a page towards the back. Written in bold letters at the top of the page was _Period 9_. "Look, this is your grade." Her finger moved down to my name.

I grimaced, strongly suspecting that I was failing. I took a glance at the number. "A 49 percent? Wait, I thought it was at least in the 50's," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Miss Corales looked at me scornfully, her mouth set in a thin, white line. My lame jokes weren't usually considered funny; I wasn't surprised at her reaction.

"This is no laughing matter, Miss Veralidaine. You are _failing_ this class, so if I am not mistaken, you absolutely _need_ these points, small though they may be. Now I realize that Spanish will not make or break your possibility of graduating this year. But I have a strong hunch that this isn't the only class you're failing. And I suspect you would not want to miss graduation for the second time."

"What the hell?" I asked angrily. _Shit. Ach, why can't you just shut up? Must you always swear at the teachers? For the love of Pete…._ I felt my cheeks redden, and my teacher's face reddened also. But I knew that she wasn't embarrassed at all; she was very angry. Even though I was really the one who had the right to be angry. I hadn't been held back at all. My teachers always took one look at my age and thought just that. I had just started school somewhat late. My parents obviously hadn't made any attempt to get me into a school at the proper age, so I was a year behind everyone else.

"Have you no respect?" she asked in a low voice, bringing me out of my thoughts. "If I didn't feel as sorry for you as I do, I would be sending you right to the principal's office at this very minute, young lady." She stood from her chair, gathering her grade book and some manila folders into her arms. "Do the assignment."

I felt my blood boil, and my face became warmer. "I don't want your pity," I muttered angrily, unable to stop myself. _Shit, you did it again. Shut your mouth!_ I looked at my teacher. Her lips were very white. She gave a very controlled sigh.

"Lalaine," she managed, "this isn't hard. Just go and get some information from your parents." She turned to go, fumbling to grasp her keys. "And I'll pretend I didn't hear that last statement. Please step outside the door. I have an appointment in ten minutes."

I put my hands on her desk, not allowing her to rush me out of the room. "But that's the problem," I hissed. "I don't have a family to ask about."

She looked at me hard, and I could have sworn her right eye was twitching. "I am not very a very happy camper right now, young lady," she said, her voice raising. "Everyone has a family. Just… go and look up your last name on the internet. If you were smart, you wouldn't have told me all of this; you would have just written down names and lied. Now out."

I felt my hands cramp into fists, even though I was surprised at her last statement (had she just hinted about- gasp- lying?). And I knew that with this assignment there would be no exceptions, just like all of the others. I wanted so badly to scream in frustration, but I knew this was not the time or place. I didn't know what to do. I just stood there, leaning on her desk, staring back at her annoyed expression.

She raised her eyebrows at me, signaling for me to leave the room. I glared at her, and opened my mouth to say something. But she cut me off. "You know what? I don't know what your problem is, but you had better fix it soon. You have way too many meetings with the principal, you never do your work, and you're always in detention. Well, that is, when you actually show up for detention. My point is, you're in bad shape, missy. I don't want to hear a word tomorrow about your not having this very easy assignment or I'll be having an appointment with your ."

I scowled, but restrained myself from retorting. _The sooner you shut up, the sooner she'll shut up. So shut up. And why the hell is she bringing my mom into this? She wouldn't care if I ran in front of a moving truck until the bills stopped coming in._ My mood lightened at this, though I wasn't sure why I thought it was so funny. I sighed, realizing that she wasn't going to make any exceptions. She wavered her hand, my signal to get out.

I stalked out of the room, my arms crossed over my chest, and I headed for my locker, where I dumped most of my school things. A small voice in my head reminded me that I had been assigned a lot of homework. I ignored it of course, knowing very well that my bringing home any books would be a waste of energy. I knew what I would do. I would dump the books on the nearest clear spot of floor, and forget about them completely. It wasn't that I was not intelligent; no, I could do the work. I could probably have straight A's. If I wanted to. But I was very lazy when it came to schoolwork. I didn't like homework, so I didn't do it. My biological parents were not in the picture; in fact, I didn't remember them ever being in the picture. And I wasn't nagged to do homework every night, on account of the fact that Darleen, my foster mother, was a drunkard and rather liked to spend her time with various other drugs.

The halls were mostly empty by now. It was a Friday afternoon, the sun was hiding behind clouds. But the warmth of the rays were able to escape down to touch the earth, and I felt my mood lift just a bit. I quickly found my very old truck parked out on the other side of the parking lot. I grinned as I advanced towards it. It had been a very nice surprise to be able to afford the truck, a wreck though it was. The tires needed to be replaced badly, the windshield was cracked on the passenger side, and there was a missing window, but I was still proud that I had been able to earn the money to buy it. Of course, I had gotten a good deal on it, because I was the janitor in the auto shop.

I opened the door without unlocking it, because the lock was broken too, and jumped in. I started the engine, and rolled out of the parking lot, wishing I had been able buy a radio to plug in. I headed off towards the public library, vaguely wondering what I would do after I tried looking up my name on the internet.

I didn't really have any friends, unless you could count that autistic guy I had helped a while back. But he had forgotten my name and eventually stopped waving to me in the halls. I had never really been one to make friends. I admit, I was not a warm and fuzzy person. I probably wasn't the first person on The Friendly People List. I was a bit of a loner, a bit strange to other people. But I didn't really blame their ignorance, because most of the time I brought it upon myself. Most kids either thought I was a loser or were afraid of me. I was always the kid sitting alone off to the side with the old, beat-up clothes. But I doubted it was my looks, because there were people in my school who looked much scarier than me.

I was a troublemaker. There was no way to walk around it. I had a bad reputation of picking fights with kids who made fun of me, my appearance, my abilities. I was different. I just didn't have the things that they had. I didn't have the beautiful clothes, the portable CD players, the movies, the friends.

But I was independent, and I was very proud of myself for that. While other kids were off watching the latest movies, or buying the latest style in clothes, I was a the auto shop, working. In a way, I felt as if I was more responsible than they were. And I was preparing myself for the real world better than they were. I wasn't being foolish for once. But this one accomplishment was also the cause for my loneliness. My being a loner was not the only reason I had no friends. I never had time to meet people and be with them. All of my time was consumed with working. Because if I didn't work, I wouldn't survive.

Believe it or not, because I know this will be hard to believe, I was the worker in the family. Pretty sad, isn't it? Everyday after school and on Saturdays, I worked at an auto repair shop, cleaning the surface of the cars, greasing wires, and occasionally actually repairing the cars if they were short on workers. Most of the time I was able to keep my pay checks away from Darleen. But sometimes I would open my new hiding place and find some of the money gone. I didn't love her, but I wanted her to be healthy. Often I would try to take away the drugs and the booze, but I never succeeded. I wondered where she was now. _Probably at some bar. Or maybe in someone's bed._ I wrinkled my nose.

She hadn't always been that way. When I was adopted, she was as loving as any woman. She bought me things, fed me ice cream before dinner, that sort of thing. But she began to fall into depression; she introduced herself to some new friends and the booze.

She was my adoptive . I cared for her. I did not love her.

My thoughts were broken by the sound of a police siren. I flinched, the sounds very sharp sounding to my ears. _Ha, poor jerk. Whoever it is. Whatever, I'm just glad it's not me._ But the sirens didn't stop for a long time, and when I looked into my rearview window, I saw a white police car in back of me.

_Fudge. Yeah, poor jerk. I'm the poor joke- I mean, jerk._ I almost slammed on the breaks, but remembered that there was a police car in back of me. I slowed down, realizing that I had been riding pretty fast. I turned the engine off when I parked on the side of the road. _This is the very last thing I need. Another ticket, so I can pay the state more money,_ I thought, sighing distractedly. I waited for officer to come to my window.

A moment later, a slightly bulky man stopped in front of my window. "And may I ask why you didn't pull over, young _lady_?" he asked in a thick New York accent. He held a notepad in his left hand and pencil in his right.

I thought about telling the truth for once, but I figured that my telling him I hadn't been paying attention would not look good on my already lousy record. "I thought you were signaling to the car right beside me, officer," I said, trying very hard to sound polite. But my voice did not have a naturally polite sound to it, and the statement came out sounding rather cheesy. _Really, Lalaine, you're usually so good at lying. What's going on here?_

"Uh huh," he said absent-mindedly, scribbling in the notebook. His voice sounded unconvincing, and I doubted he believed me. He looked up at me finally, and I saw that he looked uninterested and tired. "Look, kid, I'm gonna have to write you up for speeding. Or is your speedometer broken, too?" He hid it well, but I detected the sarcasm in his voice. I frowned, realizing he had been making fun of the condition of my vehicle.

_Well, if that wasn't rude. And they say teenagers are rude. Jeez. Well, buddy, you want to play this little game? We can play. I'll enjoy watching you lose._ I smirked. "Of course not, officer," I drawled overconfidently. "I like to collect tickets. Sometimes it's for speeding, sometimes its for- Why, officer, what's the matter?" I asked in a very fake voice. "Is something wrong? You look upset."

His face was very red, and I almost laughed because his eyes were popping. But I kept my face straight, and raised my eyebrows, waiting for a response. _Well, obviously he doesn't have my sense of humor._ But that was alright. Not many people did. I continued to watch as he looked at me in outrage.

"Would you like to repeat that comment to the chief officer? Let me see your license," he demanded. He waited, looking at me through the glass-lacking window.

"Sure thing, officer," I said in a fake, Barbie-like voice. I turned around slowly, trying to draw out as much time as possible. I looked up at the officer; I could hear him tapping his foot. "You'll just have to wait one moment, good sir," I drawled, "it's in my back pack." I turned around, grinning like a fool. I unzipped my book bag so slowly that I couldn't even hear it being unzipped. Then I proceeded to pretend to look for my license, occasionally muttering in a high-pitched voice, "Now, where _is _that?"

When I was sure that the officer would snap at any moment, I slowly brought out the card and slowly handed to him. As soon as my hand was near the window, the officer snatched it impatiently out of my hand. He looked at it closely, no doubt trying to find something to comment on. Obviously finding nothing wrong with it, he thrust it back through the window into my hand. He started writing in that stupid little pink pad again.

"Ok, _Lalaine_, here's your ticket for speeding." He thrust it through the window, and I lazily flipped it out of my hand and into the back seat. He put the pencil to the pad in his hand, and began to write. "Also. Failed to use turn signal when merging off of the roadway-"

_Shit. I always forget that._

"- is not wearing a seatbelt-"

_Fudge. Dude, I don't even _have_ a seatbelt._

"- changing lanes without turn signal again-"

_Hey! I thought I did that! Damn it._

"- and if I catch you speeding again, I'll have to suspend your license. You already have plenty of points. Just one more and your license is gone." He looked at me sternly for a few moments, and I had to work very hard not to laugh, though I wasn't sure why. All of those factors would not look good on my already horrible record. With much reluctance, he walked away. I waited until his car was far from me.

My game had been fun in the heat of the moment, but now I was regretting my actions. I really did not have such a good record, and this only made it worse. I sat in my battered truck, just thinking about everything and nothing. I didn't feel like going to the library anymore. I had tried to look up my name before, and I knew that looking it up again would be pointless. I hung my head, bringing my hands up to rub at my temples.

Eventually, I started the engine up again, deciding to head for my home instead. Only ten minutes later, I was slowly coasting down a small, run down street lined with old apartment buildings. I parked my vehicle in my assigned parking space, then jumped out, grabbing my things. I proceeded to travel up the stairs; there was no elevator. I fumbled with my keys, trying to catch hold of the right one with only one hand, the other occupied with holding my bag. I panted as I climbed to greater heights, holding tightly onto the creaking railing, telling myself not to look in back of me for the millionth time, cursing myself for not being able to afford one at a lower level.

The lock of my apartment's door clicked as it was released and I thrust the door open, the chipped paint on the outside sprinkling down into my slightly dirty hair. I closed the door quietly, and locked it, looking down the hall. The three doors at the end of the tiny hall were all closed. I walked sluggishly down to the end of the hall, which was very short, only a few feet. I opened the door on the right, and walked into my mother's and my room. There was only one bed, then off to the right was a small cot. I walked over to my cot, sitting down for moment and dumping my stuff on the floor.

But I knew that I would eventually have to check about the heating and lighting. And I would have to find out if Darleen was home. I closed the door after I was out in the little hall, opening the middle door. Darleen was not in the bathroom. I closed that door, then opened the door on the left, the dingy room coming into view. My eyes scanned over the small kitchen area, large enough to fit only two people if they were thin enough.

Connecting to the kitchen area was a living room. There was one very small couch, the fabric torn and frayed. I had found it in someone's garbage, along with the little armchair across from it against the wall. There was a small coffee table in the center of the two only pieces of furniture, the place were both Darleen and I ate ourmeals. My boots thudded on the hard floor as I walked across the small room, the sounds echoing slightly through the room, making it seem very empty and lonely.

I sat myself in the armchair, feeling the springs dig into my army pants, the only pants I could afford. I almost screamed when I heard someone moan from the couch. I clutched my heart, breathing heavily. But I realized that it was only Darleen, an empty beer bottle in her hand. I leapt up and stalked towards her form. Her eyes were closed. If I was careful, I would be able to take away the beer bottle without her knowing. My hand closed upon the bottle, and I gently tried to pry it from her loose fingers.

"Ah, NO!" Darleen's slurred voice echoed through the whole apartment, and I knew I would get another call from the landlady about noise coming from this room. Her fingers tightened on the glass.

_Shit._ "Oh, you're awake," I said quickly. She slowly sat up, looking up with her eyes, but her head did not move. The red circles around her eyes told me that she was either drunk or almost drunk. Her hair was rumpled, and she had bright red lipstick on, but it was smeared all over her face. Her clothes were stained, and she smelled strongly of tobacco and bear mixed with very cheap, pungent perfume.

"Of course I'm away," she slurred, a hiccup escaping her mouth. She raised her hand and grabbed my shirt, bringing me down to her face, then tangled her dirty fingers in my long, blonde hair. I almost choked on the stench. "What you doin', you little fucker?" Her face was twisted, and her eyes were unfocused, as if she were trying to decipher whether I was really there or not.

I pulled away, trying very hard not glower. _She's drunk. Just ignore it. She doesn't know what she's saying._ My reassurances were familiar. I told myself this every time she was drunk. "Come on, Darleen, give me the bottle." I moved to slip my fingers around the vessel for a second time.

A powerful stinging sensation came upon my cheek, and I felt my skin burn and tingle. I turned my head when her hand struck me, knowing that doing so would create a less painful contact. But I was not prepared for the glass to bump against my forehead. I stumbled backwards, clutching my cheek and trying to ignore my throbbing head. _She's just drunk,_ I reminded myself, wincing. _She doesn't mean it._

"Don't tell me what to do, you little shit!" she screeched, her voice cracking. I ignored the vulgar language, debating on whether I should try again or get out of the apartment until she was sober. _Just one more try, then I'll give up_, I decided, hardening my thoughts and tensing my body.

"Hey Darleen, how about if I get you some water? Come on, give the bottle to me." She swung her arm around when I reached for the bottle again. I felt a dull pain in my shoulder, and I pulled back. I ran around the couch, trying to dodge the flying glass, but I heard a muffled thud as it made contact with my side. Without another glance behind me, I left the room. I grabbed my backpack from the bedroom, then headed towards the door. I locked the door behind me, then ran down the stairs, my destination the truck.

I sat myself into the seat, my book bag pressed between my back and the seat, and angrily turned the engine on, knowing that I was to have a couple of fresh bruises in a few hours. I sped out of the parking lot, not really caring if I was caught again. I wanted to get away from the apartment so badly, I wanted to get away from her, I wanted to get away from reality. I jerked the wheel and turned sharply into a road that was blocked off by a bar. Beyond the bar was a thick forest, no doubt filling the large space between this lowly town and the beautiful sea.

I jammed on the breaks violently, and they protested loudly. I pushed against the wheel to keep myself from sliding too far forward as the car slid to an abrupt stop. I jerked open the door, climbed out, then slammed it shut again. Ignoring the signs that told civilians to keep out, I raced past the metal bar and took refuge inside the safety and security of the forest.

I took no trail, but my anger blinded all other emotions, such as caution and fear. I ran for about five minutes, but eventually I felt my energy waning, and I yielded, clutching my side, my breathing erratic and my body perspiring. I leaned against the rough bark of a tree, running my fingers over the skin of my stricken cheek. It felt numb. I wondered if it was red, and if it would bruise.

I hung my head, feeling defeated, though I wasn't sure what had defeated me. _You wouldn't feel defeated if you didn't let yourself._ I lifted my head, not allowing myself to sink into depression for once. I felt a slight uplifting feeling come upon me. I was alone at last, really alone. There was a difference between being alone amongst others and being truly alone. But as much as I relished in the fact that I was alone, I wished more than anything that I could talk to someone.

_You could talk to yourself,_ a voice inside of me suggested. I grinned. Why not? No one was here to ridicule me, it wouldn't hurt.

"Yeah, you're right," I said. I wondered what I should say next. But I felt very foolish just talking to myself, so I remained silent for the time being. _I guess I should get back home or something_, I thought reluctantly. I turned around, but hesitated for a moment or two. I could still see the main road from this point. I looked up at the green canopy above me, very glad that it was warm out. I turned away from the direction of civilization. _A beautiful day should never be wasted._

I started walking in the other direction, trying not to tear my clothes on the various bushes, scrubs, and burrs that lay in my non-existent path. I made a lot of noise, unintentionally, of course. Twigs gave way under my weight and I brushed leaves and branches out of my way ungracefully. Every once and a while, I took my pocket knife and scratched a mark on the bark of a random tree to mark my path so I would have no problem finding my way back.

I felt my left foot get caught under an unyielding something, and a moment of panic rose within me, my pulse speeding up, as I lost my balance for a moment or two. My hand immediately came up to grasp the small, silver charm that hung around my neck. I regained my balance, then opened my palm and looked at the little key that lay in my hand.

I smiled as I ran my fingers over the little trinket, feeling very soft and childish from contact with something that my father had once held, a contrast from my harsh exterior. "My Ada," I corrected myself, it felt that good to say the phrase aloud. I had just recently been trying to break myself of the habit of forgetting to call him Ada. I had no idea why I remembered it so vividly, but it was a word that immediately connected me to very fond thoughts, even if they were only short flashes.

I suddenly laughed. _Am I that hopeless? Good God, I'm talking to myself. That's a bit strange. Well, besides the fact that I'm not normal, even that's freaky for me._ I sighed contently, wishing that I had someone to share the beauty of the trees with me. It wasn't the first, or the second, or even the hundredth time.

I shielded my eyes as a sudden flash of bright lights obstructed my vision. For no apparent reason, I felt as if the ground were tipping, and I fell to the ground, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. A flash of red light came before me, but I felt as if I was thinking it instead of seeing it. A few moments passed, along with the faintness, and I was on my hands and knees, shaking my head to clear it. I stood cautiously, realizing with a frown that something seemed different. Not a huge difference, very slight, but still a difference.

The sun seemed to be in a different position in the sky, although I knew I had only been dizzy for a minute or two. I looked around, then noticed a very distinct sound that I hadn't heard before. _Now I _know_ I didn't hear any rushing water before…._ I frowned, but didn't think of it for more than a minute because I realized that I was suddenly cold. I shivered, wishing I had taken a sweatshirt with me. I thought this very strange, though. It had just been in the 70's a few minutes ago, and now… now I was really shivering. But I didn't dwell on it for toolong. After all, I didn't pay attention to everything. I was human, after all. I set off towards the sound of the rapids, suddenly desperately thirsty.

I found the brook without difficulty. I stopped on the bank, gazing at it. The water was wonderfully clear and fresh-looking, and I marveled at the fact that it hadn't been tainted too much with pollution. Or, for that matter, that it hadn't been tainted at all. I lifted my bag from my shoulders, letting it fall to the forest floor with a soft thud. I bent at the knee, trying to think of a way of how I could get a nice drink without having to wet my boots. I looked upstream, and found that there were some rocks that I could use as stepping stones only a few yards away. I picked up my bag again and then dumped it nearer to the stepping stones.

I stopped at the shoreline, standing very still for a moment. My eyes drifted from tree to tree, bush to shrub. I had suddenly realized an eerie feeling about me. The thought of the sudden sounds and the sudden temperature change was settling into my mind. I frowned, but I couldn't think of any explanation.

I stepped onto the first stone, right near the shoreline, still wondering. But I wobbled, almost losing my balance. _Crud. Why can't I have balance just this once?_ I spread my arms, trying to regain some more stability, then stepped across to the second and third stones. I decided that for the sake of my dryness, I wouldn't go any further out.

Carefully, I bent at the knee, crouching down low enough to dip my hands into the cold water. I drank a handful of water, then another. But when I reached for a third serving, I noticed something strange about my reflection. My skin seemed to be very white and fair, which was strange, because I had just noted a few days ago how I had gotten a slight bronze to my skin from being out in the sun. I frowned, cocking my head. But my reflection did not cock her head. My eyes were not blue, but blue eyes were staring back at me. I watched as the lips curled up into an enigmatic smile. My eyes widened, but my reflection's did not.

**

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Author's Note:** Any and all feedback is appreciated. I am only in my third year of Spanish, so if there are any grammar mistakes, I apologize and ask that you tell me. Thanks! 

When Darleen says, "I know I'm away", I meant for her to say "away" instead of "awake". It was not a mistake. It was just to emphasize how drunk she was.


	4. Lost

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, save for my own character(s). Surprise surprise!

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Many thanks to reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

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**Chapter Two**

**Lost**

I gave a loud shriek, my voice echoing loudly through the still forest. I twisted around to look all around me, but in doing so, I lost my balance and fell back into the brook. It was only a few inches deep, but the water was very cold and my army pants were thick. The water crashed into me, spurting up onto my t-shirt and splattering onto my face. I jumped out of the water as quickly as I could, not bothering trying to get back onto the stepping stones again. I looked around frantically, searching for that strange face. My eyes scanned the treetops, looking for the pale face, the long blonde hair, the… pointy ears? I frowned, questioning my sanity for the millionth time in my life.

_But I had seen him! And he had pointed ears. It's a fact, I swear. I think I swear._ I felt my fast pulse begin to slow down. I couldn't find anyone else in the surrounding trees. I had pretty good eyesight and hearing, so I figured I would see or hear something if someone was lurking around.

I almost laughed at myself. _Jeez, of all the stupid things to imagine.__ Haha! Oh, I saw someone else that looked exactly like me in between the ripples of a moving stream. Ya, real believable._ I sighed at myself, feeling the cold wetness of my pants rub against my skin as I walked. My pants were thick; it was likely that they would be wet for a while. I gave a growl of frustration, wishing I hadn't fallen in the water.

_I could take them off…._ I looked around me, suddenly very conscious of my surroundings. No, I'd be _very_ embarrassed if there really was a man with me and he caught me with my pants off. _Okay, well, _that's_ out of the picture._ I grinned at the thought, really tempted to laugh out loud at the mental picture that came up in my head. But the possibility that someone else could be with me and that they weren't showing themselves was a bit disturbing. _Ew__, now I'm freaking myself out. It's okay, Lalaine, just don't think about serial killers in the woods. While you're in the woods. Alone._

_Stop it!_

_But if someone really were here, they'd show themselves, right? RIGHT!_

_Yeah right.__ Do think a serial killer would want to show himself if he wanted the element of surprise to be to his advantage?_

_Didn't I just tell you to shut up? Ach, I'm doing it again. I really need to stop arguing with myself._ I quickly scooped my back pack into my arms, and slung it over my shoulder. I started walking back to my last tree marking, which had been only about a hundred feet downstream. I tried to walk quickly, but soon found that my dripping pants rubbed against my legs when I walked. I swore, knowing that would probably give me a rash in a while. It was easy for soldiers to wear the material, wet or dry, because their skin was more weather-beaten. I didn't usually wear shorts, so my skin was more sensitive.

I easily found my sign, then turned from the stream and walked into the trees, feeling the skin on my legs start to burn. I cursed again, this time more loudly, and I wondered how I could have let myself fall into the water. After only thirty minutes, I was sure that at least two layers of my skin had been rubbed off.

"Ach, curse it," I muttered, and I felt my face heat up, even with the absence of other people. I finally resorted to the plan that had been lingering in the back of my mind: waddling.

_I feel like some _guy _whose pants are too big and fall past his ass, so he has to waddle to keep them from falling down. Good grief, now I'm really sorry I came this far. Ah, man! I'm gonna have to waddle all the way back!_ The realization hit me fast, and I scrunched up my face, almost groaning. _Well.__ If this isn't embarrassing._ I was _really _glad there was no one with me now.

_Great, self.__ This is a fine day you've decided to wet your pants. Well. That sounded wrong._

_Yes, it did. Just try to keep your mind off it. So, self, how was your day so far?_

_Hmm, well.__ I got an F on this one Trigonometry test, I got written up for talking back to my English teacher, I gave my Spanish teacher sass, so I'm probably on her hit list now, I got myself landed into another detention. You know, that's, what, five I have to make up now. Oh, and now I'm stuck out in the woods and my goddam pants are soaking and my legs and crotch feel like they're gonna fall off._

_Not a very good day, is it, self?_

_Yeah, I'd say. Good grief, I'm talking to myself again. Do I have personality problems now? Ach, no, I can't afford to go see a psychiatrist! Or get a CAT-scan for that matter…._ Of course, this was highly amusing to think about, and I found myself grinning again. I didn't remember when I had started to talk to myself. It was a long time ago, that was all I knew. I hadn't had anyone to talk to, and I needed to say things out loud once in a while. I had come to a conclusion that permanent silence was bad for one's health.

Therefore, I made it my job to make as much noise as possible.

I rubbed at my arms, shivering, and noticed that I had gotten goose bumps. I wondered if the cold wasn't the only reason. I looked around again, still waddling. There probably hadn't been anyone there. I hadn't seen anyone for the whole afternoon, and this was a large area. Besides, even if someone had been there, it wouldn't have mattered. It would be silly to believe that I was the only person in this huge wood.

_Well, whoever it was, if there was even someone there, he's not here anymore,_ I reasoned with myself, trying to slow my fast-beating heart. I might have even seen myself. I thought back, trying to remember if I had seen my reflection along with the other. But I couldn't recall seeing more than one reflection, and I felt slightly more relieved. How obvious was that? I had seen only one reflection, with long blonde hair and a face with a fair complexion. I almost laughed out loud at my plentiful stupidity. I had long blonde hair. I had a complexion that could be called fair. The water would lighten all the elements of the likeness, too. The image hadn't even been clear. The numerous ripples could have made my ears look pointed. However, the fact that I had my hair back in a ponytail and the image had not was not connecting with my theory.

I tried to waddle faster, feeling more ridiculous by the second. I frowned, looking for my next sign on the tree. There was none. _Maybe I forgot this one…._ But I knew I had been very careful to mark every fifteen trees exactly. Panic rose within me, finally breaking my protective bubble of reassurance. I started to go into a cold sweat, and forgot to waddle when I ran to look closely at the surrounding trees.

But I continued to walk in the direction that I thought I had come from. I came to a small clearing, frowning. "What the hell is happening?" I muttered angrily. I didn't remember coming across any clearings. The trees were way too thick, there was always at least some bushes and scrubs covering the ground.

My mind began to ramble off various (and considerably recent) news reports about people who got lost or murdered in the isolation of the forest. _Ten-year-old boy gets shot accidentally by a hunter in the woods. Murder victim found near the edges of a small mountain stream. Girl raped and tortured in the woods. Woman found dead in the trees. Teenage boy's warped and mangled body found under bush. Gah, how can I remember all this crap and not be able to remember important stuff like how to conjugate a Spanish verb?_

_Screw the waddling, I'm running._ I broke into a heavy sprint, knowing fully well that I would get tired in a matter of minutes. I ran past trees, occasionally stopping long enough to verify that they sported no marks from my pocket knife. I kept imagining that I would turn to my right or left and see the black of the pavement in between the greens of the forest. But I saw nothing but green, and I suddenly despised the color.

I suddenly stopped running, and stood still for a moment. The forest was so large, and I felt so small. And I knew I was not going in the right direction. I had only been out here for a couple of hours. At this, I noticed that the sun was dipping in the sky, and I knew that the darkness of night was coming.

Now I wished more than anything that I had a compass. I cursed, knowing that I didn't even own a compass, therefore it would be impossible for me to possess one right now. I didn't know what to do, so I just stood, trying to hear anything that might signal that civilization was close.

_Ding!_ A picture of a light bulb came into my mind. _Idea alert!_ I filled my lungs and screamed for help. I started to run again, this time much more slowly. I yelled as loud as my throat could handle, hoping that people would respond to some of my cries. My voice started to become hoarse, and I resorted to cursing as well, and saying anything that would possibly get someone's attention. But after ten or fifteen minutes, I felt my throat start to give off sharp pains when I tried to scream louder. When I began to feel a burning sensation in my chest from not being able to breath properly, I abandoned that idea. _It wasn't a very good plan anyway,_ I thought, trying to remain calm.

_Great.__ I'm tired, I'm starting to get hungry, it's getting dark, my legs still hurt (but at least my pants are drying), and I'm parched again. Damn this day._ I couldn't see the horizon through all of the trees, but I knew that the night was going to arrive in a matter of twenty or so minutes. The air was getting much cooler, and the shadows of the trees were far more prominent.

I started walking again, trying to decide if it was worth it to keep going on in the dark and risk getting even more lost, or to just stop and camp for the night. I could just see the scale in my mind. _Hmmm…. Risk getting lost and going on? Or stopping? Stopping would mean I could rest, and eat, and… other… stuff. Stopping is sounding very nice right about now._ I certainly did not want to get more lost than I already was. And knowing me, I would probably just run around in circles.

_Ok, calm down, self.__ We need some sort of protection. I_ looked at my surroundings, stopping again, and wondering with vague humor about my 'personality' problems. I had absolutely no idea about how to survive in the outdoors without any basic equipment. I quickly crouched down, putting my bag on the ground so I could search through it. _Always good to know what you're starting with._ I rummaged through the bag, mentally checking the things off.

_A half of a sandwich (good, I'll have dinner), a water bottle (well, ain't that smart?)._ I took a swig of the warm water, then resumed my search. _Some school notebooks (another sign pointing to the fact that school is pointless), my deodorant (well, at least I won't stink), my wallet._ I opened it, confirming that it held my last paycheck. But this, of course, would be no help to me at the moment, so I put it on the ground next to everything else. _And- OH MY GOD! I am so saved! Score, a flashlight!_ Ecstatic, I whipped it out of my bag, and pushed the button to turn it on.

Nothing happened. I shook it, muttering angrily. "Stupid- Idiotic- Worthless- Ach, piece of crap!" I slammed it against my hands several times, then gave up. "Great," I said, my voice cracking. "The _one_ damn time I need most, it breaks. Piece of junk!" I threw it to the ground.

I shivered, feeling very cold, then bent to throw all of the articles back into the bag. I put my arms around myself tightly, the straps of my bag digging into my armpits. There was no way I would be at all comfortable if the temperature kept dropping at this rate. And I had nothing but damn pants and a t-shirt. I stood still, feeling very defeated for the millionth time that day. A thousand thoughts flew through my mind. _I wish I never came into the forest. I wish I never drank from the stream. I wish I wasn't lost. I wish, I wish, I wish._ There were a lot of things I wished, but I lifted my head. I wouldn't get anything down if I just stood here, wallowing in my wishes.

Just as I thought this, an idea came to me. "Fire!" I laughed aloud. "Of all the stupidest things to forget! 'Oh! I don't know how I'll _ever_ stay warm'!" I mimicked myself, shaking my head. _God, the way my mind works, or shall I say doesn't work, is disturbing._ I knew I could find plenty of wood (_Duh._), but I wasn't sure of where I would be camping exactly. But I eventually figured that it wouldn't make much of a difference since I wasn't really planning on sleeping. I wanted to be on my guard at all times. _Just don't think about axe murderers._

I circled around the area picking up stones to surround the wood with. There weren't many that fit my standards perfectly, but I eventually found some that were large enough. Then I took up the easy task of searching for sticks and wood. I had a very large pile in only ten minutes, thanks to the plentiful amount of trees around me, and set out to arrange the rocks in a small circle, placing a pile of sticks in the center.

Once all was arranged, I stood back, trying to think of what to do next. _Well, you have to actually _light_ it now, you dipstick._ This created an obstacle in my plans, and I paused, trying to think of what to do. _Ok, how to light a fire.__ Pity I don't have matches… I_ looked around for something to rub against the wood. What would create enough friction to spark? Didn't people used to grind sticks together in the middle of the pile? But I tossed that idea aside; it would take forever just to get a spark, let along an entire fire, going. I thought about rubbing granite between two pieces of wood, but I didn't see any granite.

I kicked a stick out of my way, suddenly very frustrated. How did people light fires without matches? _How did the cavemen do it, damn it?_ How could the simplest things slow me down so much? I really needed to get out more often.

"Okay, screw the fire," I said irritably, plopping myself down onto the ground without a second thought. If there was no one- No, no_thing_ around, I had nothing to worry about right? _Right!_ I shook my head, and watched and waited as the last bit of sunlight disappeared from view. I was afraid and cold, not to mention hungry, but I didn't want to move. Part of this was because I was so tired from running and walking so much. But it was mostly because I was too scared to move. Reassuring yourself that no one was out there with a knife and a gun didn't help at all.

Attempting to calm my nerves, which wasn't going to happen anytime soon, I rummaged through my backpack again and grabbed the sandwich and water bottle. I took the sandwich out of the zip lock baggie and opened my mouth, ready to take a nice sized bite. My mouth watered as I brought it closer-

Suddenly, an ear splitting scream came to my ears. The cry continued for almost a minute, echoing through the forest and slicing through the silence of the night. I jerked, and the sandwich flew out of my hands and into a patch of mud. _Damn it, I was hungry._ But as much as I wanted to jump up and save my dinner, I stayed where I was, every muscle in my body tensed. I knew I was breathing very heavily, and I felt myself start to sweat again. I listened for the cry again, but it had ceased, and I could hear nothing but bleak silence while the memory of the sound rang in my ears.

I waited for five more minutes before I moved again. I brought my knees up to my chest, leaning into the bark of the tree behind me. I didn't know what to do. I thought about running, but then realized that no place would be safer than where I was at the moment. I looked up above me, trying to see through the dense darkness that created a blanket over my vision. The tension in the air was so great that I almost thought about making some noise. The silence was crushing me as much as the suicidal scream had.

The slicing scream sounded again, but this time I knew that it was much nearer to where I sat. It was so deafening that I moaned, crouching down on the ground and covering my ears with my hands in an attempt to prevent my ears from throbbing so painfully. The scream slowly died, but was replaced by the sound of someone running heavily through the forest. I jumped up upon hearing this, desperately wondering who or what it was, but at the same time not really wanting to know.

The sounds of the beatings were coming closer now, so close that I knew they were less than an eighth of a mile near. I recognized the sounds as the hooves of a horse. No, the hooves of many horses. I stayed low to the ground, not really wanting to be seen. Horses were fairly common in this part of the country, but I didn't want to meet up with a hostile stranger. I inched nearer and nearer to the safety of the more prominent shadows under some bushes, waiting to see the intruder first so that I would have the element of surprise on _my_ side. I forced myself to lay as flat as possible, though this didn't prevent the branches from poking me in the back and sides.

_Well.__ This is comfortable._

Nine dark bodies loomed into view, their breathing heavy and noticeable in the cold air. I narrowed my eyes, wishing I could see better in the dark. The impatient stomp of a horse's foot came to my ear. I could tell that all of the riders were thin, and they all wore dark clothing. _Hm__, black clothing, and those look like knives. Well, that's not a good sign. Damn it, I knew there was going to be some sort of homicidal incident._

I watched as the nine riders began to gather in a small circle, obviously looking at something. I felt myself pale when I realized that they had found my non-smoking camp site. _Shitokki__ mushrooms. Can't I do anything right?_ I remained a still as I could stand, doing everything in my power to prevent an encounter with these riders.

_Oh crap! Cramp! Cramp! Damn it! Ach!_ I gasped and screwed up my face, my eyes twitching as I felt the pains shoot through my cramping leg. I should have known that I would cramp up after walking and running for that amount of time. I got my leg out from under me, hoping that none of the riders had heard me move or gasp.

But I had no luck, and all nine slowly turned their steeds to look straight into my hiding place, which was kind of creepy the way they all moved as one, if you ask me. My eyes widened as the nearest urged his mount towards me, quickly accelerating into a gallop.

I leapt out from under the bush just as the black horse's hooves pounded its branches. I heard the snap of the branches behind me as I crashed to the ground, grunting. I scrambled to my feet, grabbing my back pack from where it was near my right hand, and dashed out of the little clearing as fast as I could. As I ran, I wondered why he had just charged at me for absolutely no reason. Had he even seen me?

I looked over my shoulder, still hearing the beatings of the horses' hooves on the forest floor. I had no idea where I was going, and I was sure that I wouldn't get very far. I was good at losing people, maybe one or two at tops. But at the moment, I was the tired shrimp against nine other guys on horses. I faced forward again, not wishing to trip and fall in this chase. I frowned, suddenly realizing that the pounding of hooves were not all behind me, but surrounding me.

A horse's scream was right in front of me. Hooves were coming down towards me, the rider's billowing cape blocking out the little light that the moon provided. I twisted to the side, literally jumping into the air to avoid getting impaled. I landed on the cold, stiff ground, but I was able to regain my balance within moment or two.

I sensed a rider to my right, and I quickly changed my direction, charging to my left as fast as I could. I ran for a minute or two, my chest feeling very tight and strained, but I was cut off by another rider. Hooves narrowly missed my shoulder as I spun around, and I fell forward. I thrust out my right foot to catch myself, but I watched in horror as it twisted beneath my weight. I fell forward, hollering as I tumbled to the ground and over a small ridge in the forest floor. I rolled down the tiny, yet steep wall and into the basin, my head smacking up against a tree root on the way.

My head and ankle were both throbbing, but I tried to ignore them as I quickly slithered underneath some bushes, trying to hide effectively. I lay on the ground, listening as intently as I could. But something was not right. I frowned, finally realizing that the entire forest was completely silent again. I could feel the wetness of the mud underneath me, and the branches were poking into my back, but I paid no attention to this. I was breathing heavily from lack of air and energy, and from the pain coming from my head and ankle. I strained my ears, hardly hearing anything save for the rustling of the leaves in the breeze. Or was it the breeze? But I knew better than to try to expose myself so soon.

Finally, I heard the slow and faint exhale of a beast, and knew that I wasn't alone. Tears from pain and fear came to my eyes, but I quickly pushed them back, knowing that I would make sounds if I cried. I cursed the darkness silently. If I only had a bit of light. But I supposed that it worked for me as well as against me. If I couldn't see them, then they couldn't see me.

A twig snapped, but I was not the one to snap it. I suddenly became aware of the little sounds of crunching grass around me. I shivered, realizing that the ground was crispy because the temperature was so low. I frowned, listening as the dried mud and grass crackled underneath the beasts. I was surrounded again, and they knew where I was. I didn't know what to do. I felt like an animal trapped and ready to be eaten, with no hope of escape or justice.

_But why the heck would they be interested in me?_ I wondered, trying to think of any reason. _I'm just some girl in the woods. I didn't even break the law this week. Or did I? I_ thought back, biting my bottom lip. The vile and metallic taste of blood seeped into my mouth, and I lifted my teeth from my lip. _No, I don't think I did anything. Well, not today, anyway._ I almost shrugged, but managed to stop myself. One sudden movement would make one sudden little sound. And one sudden little sound would seal the outcome of this night.

_Oh, forget wishing for friends and money, I don't care anymore,_ I wailed inside my mind. _Just make them go away!_ It took much of my energy and courage just to keep myself from whimpering. The throbbing sensation on the side of my head was slowly but surely going away, and for that I was very thankful. But I could still feel my ankle very noticeably. I breathed in deeply, closing my eyes to keep from crying.

I could hear the pawing and prancing of the horses in the soft mud, and I knew that they were very near. This was helpful, my knowing where they were, but the problem was, I had no idea where I was. The sounds of the horses' breathing was coming closer, and realization dawned on me that I could not stay where I was, lest I wanted to be found. Which I didn't. I cursed silently, realizing that I would have to make a run for it, and quickly. I would have to use my ankle, and just try to ignore the pain.

Very carefully, and as quietly as I could, I began to slither slowly out from under the brush. I grimaced a bit, feeling myself slide easily in the wet soil, and I knew I would be covered in mud by the time I got out. Slowly, I propped myself up on my hands and knees, my plan to crawl for a little while before I ran. I inched forwards slowly for a small distance, praying that the small sounds that I made wouldn't reach the strangers' ears. Then I slowly forced myself to stand, and prepared to sprint. I winced when I put weight on my right foot.

_Man, I'm such a wimp…._ I could tell that it wasn't serious at all, just a regular old sprained ankle. If it was even sprained. It might just be strained a bit. I stood still for a moment, trying to decide what was the best way to ditch these people. I was almost a professional at anything that had to do with breaking the law. From past experiences, I had all the practice I would need. _Too bad I couldn't write a paper on this, I'd surely get an A.__ God knows I need an A._ Gearing my mind back to the problem at hand, I struggled to come up with more than what I already had, which was to run like the dickens.

A horse's snort. The raspy breathing of its rider.

I crouched low to the ground. The lower I was, the less chance that they would see me hidden by the short bushes and leaves. I crept as quietly as I could in one direction. It didn't matter the aim, I knew they were surrounding me. I would have to encounter a rider in any case. I soon realized that my breathing was more noisy than my feet, even with the crackling and popping mud underneath my boots. I paused to take a deep breath and tried to calm myself. _How is this any different from escaping Mom? Just need some time. Just a little more time._ I encouraged myself silently to keep on going, trying not to make noise.

Strangely, through these small moments in which I was slowly making my way to the freedom of fear and confinement, the noises of the horses had ceased. I thought this was very strange indeed, that even the horses wouldn't make any noises. They were animals, and most likely would not listen to the meaningless jumble of sounds coming out of their masters' mouths that was the English language. I tried not to think about this sudden change, but I couldn't help but feel suspicious that I was making the only noise in this dark forest.

My eyes widened. A deep breath taken? That of a man? Or perhaps a horse?

The light hair in my loose ponytail fluttered out from behind me, my long and straight tresses caressing my neck and cheek. I felt the warm breath of an animal reach the back of my neck, seeming to take the form of a giant hand. The long fingers wrung themselves around my neck, then disappeared into the cold night.

_Shit._ I turned quickly and suddenly, bringing my fist forward and upward towards the horse's eyes, hoping to stun it for a moment or two so I could begin to run. But strangely, my fist collided with something that was hard and cold, something that made a sound distinctive to that of metal. I sucked in a breath of the sharp air, suppressing the strong urge to swear then reduce myself to tears.

I opened my eyes, not quite remembering that I had closed them, to see that the rider had urged his steed forward so that he was looking directly down at me, still holding my fist against the metal. I looked up the long metal knife of the blade, realizing that it was very strange and foreign to my eyes. I vaguely wondered why anyone in this day and age would bother to carry a long sword at their side, for the sake of comfort, when there were much easier options at hand. Such as smaller knives, guns, hatchets. I almost winced upon these thoughts, thinking that maybe it was a blessing that such weapons were not at hand at this moment.

My eyes glided up the metallic surface, almost afraid of what lie above me. My eyes rested upon a skeletal hand, a creamy, anything but soft, contrast to the billowing black cape and hood that veiled his face from my view. I had an eerie feeling that I was staring at death itself, but I quickly made myself forget about this prospect, lest I become lost in fear and succumb to trembling.

I felt another skeletal hand on my shoulder, grasping me from behind with a hardness not only from its grip but from its very being. I screamed savagely, my senses surging back to me, and I became acutely aware that I was trapped between two large horses and their riders. I was whipped around abruptly, and one of my wrists was caught in a wasted hand, the flesh barely stretched over the bone. A knife was brought over the holder's head, and I screamed again, my hand diving into my pocket to fish out my pocket knife frantically. Even though I knew a little pocket knife would do no good to help in my survival, it was my last resort, my last bit of clinging to life, my desperate need to escape the obvious pain I would endure if he decided to drive that blade into my flesh.

The rider screamed viciously, pulling my arm up a bit, and I assumed with bitter despair that this was his scream of triumph. But strangely, I felt his grip on my arm loosen, and I looked up at my captor, and hope welled within me. It looked as if he was screaming not because of victory, but because of a sudden pain. I took the moment to my advantage, and put my mouth to the skinny wrist. I almost gagged from the stench of blood and decay, and I felt my stomach flop around in my torso, but I forced myself to sink my teeth into the thin flesh. The grip on my own arm loosened, and I wrenched myself away, almost loosing my balance and falling backwards.

I quickly fled from the spot, feeling both relieved and anxious. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another shadow running swiftly towards where I stood. I turned towards it, feeling more confident because I knew that I was at least a few inches taller than whoever made it. I watched as an older boy came near me, his hand extended, inviting me to take it. I snarled, swinging my fist at him and hoping to knock him hard enough to be stunned for a few seconds. But he was quicker than I thought, and I watched in horror as he dodged my fist with expertise, then turn to grab my hand all in a single, fluid movement.

I swung my other arm around, this time feeling it connect with the boy's stomach. He gave a loud grunt of surprise, obviously shocked that I had tried to knock him out cold. I quickly took off the other way, vaguely wondering why I was not being assaulted by the black riders anymore. I turned my head around, still running forwards, to look behind me. There were only three riders in view, and also another man who was on his feet. He had no hood over his shoulder length brown hair and stubbled face, and although he also wielded a sword, he appeared as though he was threatening the three riders single-handedly.

I turned my head around, feeling very guilty about leaving the man and the boy, who, I now realized, were not trying to murder me, alone with the riders. I prepared myself to turn around, but a piece of heavy, black fabric whipped across my face, burning my cold skin. I heard the pounding of heavy hooves as the horse pranced before me, and I struggled to get out of its way.

I viewed the smooth, black stomach of the creature, its front legs flailing in front of me, kicking out into the air, and the rider remaining seated effortlessly. I knew I had to react quickly if I wanted to stay intact, and I felt my legs begin to move, slowly, almost reluctantly. The horse's hooves were coming fast at my face.

_Move! Move now!_ A deer in the headlights. I was the deer. I struggled to move my legs, and I launched myself to the side, turning almost completely around. Too late to move, I felt the horse's solid hooves collide with my upper back, kicking me out of the way mercifully with a powerful shove. I felt air rushing at my face, cold air that whipped my fair hair away from my eyes so I could see the tree ahead of me. I was slapped against the bark, my skull striking heavily against the wood. There was the friendly face of a boy before me. But I couldn't even speak to him, and the colors of his face were yielding to the shadows.

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**Author's Note:** Any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated! 


	5. Call Me Jane

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all reviewers! You guys make my day!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

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Chapter Three

**Call Me Jane**

_Footballs are hitting me. Ugh, I feel like the football…._ I lay as completely still as I could, feeling as though I had been battered by more than one of my imaginary footballs. There was a slightly dull ache coming from my upper back, but I suspected that the pain it was causing would become much worse if I tried to move. My head was also throbbing slightly, though it did not hurt as much as I anticipated when I moved it a fraction of an inch to my left. I knew that I had hit it twice just moments ago. Or was it just moments ago? I had been sleeping, maybe unconscious, so perhaps it had been more than a few minutes.

My eyes snapped open to be blinded temporarily by the bright morning sunlight, and I knew that I had been out cold for a couple of hours. Actually, considering that I had begun to hear the screeches just after the sun had set, I had been out cold for more than a couple of hours. My throat felt parched and dry, and I groaned, feeling the muscles in my neck twang painfully. My face was hot, maybe with a low fever from my head injuries. _Well, it can't be from this damn cold weather,_ I thought, deciding to wait a couple more minutes to move again.

A cool, but not freezing, rag ran gently across my forehead, causing me to jump and yell out. My breathing became ragged again, and I struggled to lift my arm to swat away the cool rag, along with the hand that held it, even though the coolness on my hot face had felt deliciously good. There were strange people in this world, people who were crazy enough to hurt another and then allow them to regain consciousness before resuming their murderous games. I quickly raised myself to a more defensible position, almost crying out when I first moved. _Man, I must have some major bruising…._ But I shoved away the pain, thinking that this was more important.

"Get away from me, you sick sonofa-," I growled, grinding my teeth, expecting to see a skinny, psychopathic murderer with a billowing black cape and a black horse nearby. My eyes almost deceived my mind into thinking that this was the person sitting in front of me. But I widened my eyes, and watched as a boy with light brown, untidy curls, and somewhat long hair stared back at me with wide but unafraid eyes. In his hands, slightly grimy hands, was the wet rag.

"Oh," I stuttered, ashamed that I had almost sworn so viciously in front of such a young person. I usually kept my swearing to a minimal when with children. There was no reason for me to corrupt them at such a young age. "I…. Jee, kid, I didn't realize…."

"Hush, it is alright," he said, his accent sounding surprisingly strange and deep to my ears. _A mix of Gaelic and British?_ I wondered, for a moment completely stunned. His voice seemed as though it did not fit him. He looked so small and almost childlike, but when I looked closer, I realized that his face was more weatherbeaten than I had thought. In fact, when I looked more closely, which I did, examining him from all angles possible from my position, he looked as though he possessed much more maturity than I had given him credit for.

I sat for a few moments, stupefied, then realized at last that he had spoken more words in his foreign accent. "Huh?"

He frowned, the expression quite handsome on such a small person. "I said that you should lay down again. Strider shall be back in a moment or so, and I don't want to risk more injuries. You've already got a pretty cut on your head."

I tilted my head again, this time much more aware of the pain that it evoked. I grimaced, realizing that he was probably right. "Yah, tell me about it," I groaned, vaguely wondering what he meant by 'Strider'. _Some freakish name for a friend?_ "I feel like I got run over by a truck." I slowly lowered myself to the ground, wishing I had some aspirin in my backpack.

As soon as I was lying vertically on the ground, two more faces came into view. Both looked as though they had similarities to the first boy, though they did not look as if they were related. I wondered if I was right in assuming that they were young. All but their physical appearance of height was pointing to the fact that they were older than they seemed, but I just couldn't bring myself to believe it. One was slightly more plump than the other.

There was much muttering and asking how I felt and would I like something to eat because I had been knocked out for quite some time? I didn't know what to say for a moment. _One question at a time, people!_ I found myself focusing on the last question, the one about if I wanted anything to eat, which I absolutely did. But I felt a bit strange asking these strangers if I could eat their food. However, I didn't have much of a choice, because the boy who had asked had quickly walked away and come back with a couple of morsels in his hand.

He sat down next to me, obviously wondering what to do now. He eventually decided to just hold it out to me politely, an almost sheepish look on his face. I took it, murmuring my thanks. I ate them, feeling instantly much better, but I thought that drinking some of my bottled water would be very satisfying.

"Hey, do I still have my book bag anywhere around here?" I asked, feeling very stupid. I lifted my head, feeling relieved that it did not hurt as much as I thought I would have. I quickly propped myself up on my elbows, enabling myself to see more around me.

"Your pack is beside you," another boy said. His eyes were watching my every move, I noticed, and I knew he was probably a bit suspicious of me. Of the four, he had the darkest hair, and the most fair complexion. I glanced to my right a bit, and sure enough, my bag was lying in the grass, surrounded by various strange plants.

"Thanks," I said, grabbing for it. As I opened the zipper, I saw all four of the boys tense immediately. Their eyes did not widen, but I could sense that everyone was very distrustful. I slowed my movements, as if a sudden move would cause them to lash out. When I brought out my water bottle and took off the cap, the tension in the air seemed to lessen a bit, but not very much. Four pairs of eyes watched as I took a large swig of water. _What the hell are they staring at? What am I, a museum exhibit?_

I finally put my water bottle down in my lap, still holding it in my hand. "Can I help you?" I asked, suddenly being reminded of a store manager.

But they didn't have a chance to answer, because at that moment two men appeared behind them. I saw all four boys visibly relax, and I frowned. Both were tall, and I noted with distaste that they were unclean. When I looked more closely later, I also realized that the four boys were also grubby. I immediately chided myself for this thought, since I was probably just as soiled. My body might not have been as dirty, but I knew that my hair was probably worse. Because of the electricity shortage, both my mother and I could only wash our hair once or twice a week. I just simply didn't make enough money to take long showers everyday. _Man, and this was supposed to be my long showering day, too._

One was more sturdy than the other. The first one had a bit of a ruddy and weather beaten complexion, with an almost noble composure. I couldn't quite pin my thoughts on this, but he seemed tall and mighty, like some great warrior. I almost blushed thinking these ridiculous thoughts. His hair was light brown with an auburn tint to it, and it was long enough to pass his ears. His clothes, like the other people, looked as though he had stepped out of a movie set for an old movie. He carried a shield, I noticed, and a long knife, which I was not too fond of looking at.

The other man was somewhat smaller and more lithe in frame. His dark brown hair also fell past his ears, parted in the center, and his chin was rough with unshaved stubble. His face also showed hardships, and like the other man, he had an presence of authority and poise around him. I watched carefully as they strode towards me confidently, still holding my water bottle to my lips.

The first man was the first to speak. "Are you fairing better than before, my lady?" His voice was a bit rough, but it was nevertheless the most courteous thing anyone of the opposite sex had ever said to me.

_Well, let's see. I just got two head injuries in one day, my foot hurts like a mother, and I was unconscious for a couple hours. Oh, and I feel like I just go run over by a truck and then pelted with footballs, then used as the football. But no, I'm alright._ I was really very tempted to say all of this out loud, but I knew I would feel very stupid afterwards, so I decided on a more polite approach. After all, I had problems with social contact. Maybe this would be the first step: be nice. But sadly, I was not a nice girl. "I- I'm, okay, I mean I've felt better, but I'm- I'm okay," I stuttered. I thought that sounded a bit polite, but I wasn't sure.

_They've all got some sort of long knife,_ I thought rubbing my temples. _Maybe I had hit my head harder than I had thought._ I wondered if I should actually ask them for help or just try to get as far from this spot as possible. After all, these people could have been the riders. There is such a thing as changing clothes and ditching the horses. Asking them for help would put me in a very vulnerable position, and they would know that I was lost, therefore not capable of escaping their grasp. On the other hand, I really wanted to get home, and they probably already figured out that I was lost. How many young women do you come across in a huge forest, alone and with no supplies? _Yah, I'm kind of obvious. What the hay, I'll just ask them._

"Perhaps you should rest for some more time," the second man said, and his voice held authority. "You still look pallid, and you must let your body become accustomed to your injuries."

I stared at him. _What the hell?_ I snapped my mouth shut to prevent myself from drooling. _That would have been _really_ embarrassing if I'd drooled._ "Uh… yeah, okay," I said, not really thinking there was anything else to say. "I actually have to get going, so I'm fine." I propped myself up higher, but hesitated to get to my feet. _Man, I'm a wimp._ I quickly pushed myself up, trying to ignore the shooting pains in my foot. At this moment I knew it was a very small sprain, because if it was anything worse I definitely would not be standing up at that moment. Once I stood, I stepped back a few feet to lean against the trunk of a tree, trying not to pant.

"My lady," the first man said. I shrank back as he rushed towards me and took my arm. "Your foot is not at its best. You should not put weight on it until a brace is formed."

_Oh my God, he's touching my arm! Get off!_ I tried to pull my arm away casually and make it look like I wasn't disgusted, but this obviously did not work. A concerned look came upon both of them men's faces when I yanked my arm away. It wasn't that I had something against the guy, he might've been the nicest person in the world. But I had a bubble around me and I valued my personal boundaries. I didn't like people to touch me. At all. In all the ways that I wished I could meet my parents, I almost got nervous at the prospect of meeting them. Parents would expect you to hug and kiss them, not turn them away. I was not a warm and fuzzy person, I guess you could say.

"Is something the matter, my lady?" the second man asked, and though he had concern sketched into his facial expression, it seemed as though he was thinking about some very big problem underlying all others.

_Okay, why are they acting so polite? What is this, the middle ages?_ "What's with the 'my lady'?" I asked, suddenly irritated at their supposed care of my health. "It's just- Jane. Just Jane," I lied, not wanting to reveal my name to them. I cursed myself to stumbling over the words.

The second man stood in front of me, an almost knowing look on his face. He had a strange effect on me so that I felt as though he was chiding me for lying to him. I hoped I would not blush, but of course, my hope was dumped. He, and I say he because it was not just his face, seemed to know a lot about me by looking forward with that knowing and understanding look about him. I shifted my weight to my right foot, remembering too late my sprain. _Fudge! Damn it, damn it damn it…._ I hastily put my weight on the other foot, which was beginning to ache. _Damn it, I have flat feet, too._

When I looked at the other man, his face held concern, but he did not have that knowing aurora around him. He may have sensed that I had lied to him, though. However, I had no time to analyze them any longer because yet another set of figures came into view, but I could not see them clearly because they were very far away. I could barely see them through the trees.

At first I only thought that there was one figure, because the second almost looked as though she were part of nature. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw from a distance a very tall, yet somewhat masculine, woman walking towards us with grace that I knew no man could ever hope to possess. She had beautiful, long blonde hair and very fair features. She was very tall, and I noticed as she came closer with an effortless grace that she had no breasts. I frowned, squinting, then realized with surprise that the figure was not a woman, but a man. My mouth dropped for the second time that day, and I almost wheezed from the effort to breathe.

_What the hell?_ I could now see that the figure was undeniably male, although that long hair had fooled me when I couldn't yet see the facial features. I was really glad he would never know I had thought of him as a woman. He was wearing a soft-looking, green and brown outfit that looked as though it could have been comprised of the forest itself. A bow and pack of arrows were strapped to his back, and he also carried a knife.

His companion was as short as he was tall. He had a helmet on, so I could not see more than his bright red hair and his beard. Unlike the others, he didn't carry a knife, but the axe at his side was definitely not heartwarming. In a few moments they were standing next to the two men.

I felt like a circus animal with all of them standing in front of me. I raised my chin, trying to look cool and confident. "So I've told you who I am, you need to tell me all your names," I demanded, feeling very smart for lying about my name. Of course, they could probably do the same thing, but we don't need to think about that right now.

"You did not reveal your name to me," said the short man with the helmet in a rough voice. I could now see part of his face. It was very ruddy and weather beaten, but he looked healthy.

"L- Jane. Jane," I said, correcting myself. _Damn it, Lalaine, what's wrong with you?_ He looked at me with a look on his face that resembled suspicion. I couldn't really see through his helmet that well.

"I express my apologies, my lady," the second man with the knowing way about him said, "for not introducing myself. It is not safe to do so freely in these days of danger."

I squinted my eyes at him. _These days of danger? Oh, well, okay, that's reasonable._ I tilted my head back, relaxing the muscles in my face. "Yeah, I guess you're right. You know, the War on Terrorism isn't just commercial." I relaxed a little. Maybe these people weren't psychopathic murderers. They seemed to be as cautious as me.

"War on terrorism," the blonde murmured quietly. I couldn't tell what his feelings on it were, because his face was completely devoid of any other emotion aside from a peaceful and unbiased expression.

"Yeah, War on Terrorism. You know, the war that was started a _long_ while ago?" I frowned, not getting any responses. _Please say you know what the War on Terrorism is, dude. You must have been living in a closet not to know what that is. You're freaking in __America__, dipsticks!_ I really wanted to shift my weight, but I managed to restrain myself. I didn't like the feeling of being ganged up on.

"Okay, you people are really scaring me. You _do_ know what I'm talking about, right? Just nod and smile." _Because honestly, if you don't even know what the War on Terrorism is, well, I don't really know. I think I'm scared now._ I watched the blonde, expecting him to jump into to defend himself. But he looked as though he was considering something of unimportance, and as though he had all the time in the world to do so.

"'Tis a unique term for the war," he said eventually, his voice cool and confident, yet quiet and wise. "But 'tis valid."

I squinted my eyes at him, staring at him with disbelief. "Yeah," I said, drawing out the word. "Okay, well." I tried desperately to think of something intelligent to say, but this obviously wasn't going to happen. _Well, how the fudge are you supposed to respond sanely to something like that?_ I swallowed a couple of times, and looked up at the sky as if I felt as cool and confident as the blonde, which I couldn't really see because of the green canopy of leaves above us.

I looked down at them expectantly after a while, but all were looking at me expectantly. I looked from one of them to another, wondering what they expected me to do.

"So," I said, drawling out the 'o'. "Can you get me a one way ticket out of this place?" I put my thumb up I the air, motioning to the back of me. I waited for an answer, but no one gave any. I cleared my throat. All save for the blonde were looking at my face now. The man seemed to be looking past me, as though he could see past my exterior and sort through my thoughts as if they were files in a computer waiting to be hacked into.

"What is your meaning by one way ticket?" the short man demanded, and his voice accused me of something, though I wasn't quite sure what it was. He was now looking straight at me, a mix expression set on his face.

I frowned, suddenly annoyed. "You know what I mean. A one way ticket. What's wrong with all of you?"

"We fair well," said the man with the more lithe appearance, "but you speak in riddles. Perhaps you would tell us whence you came." He motioned for me to sit.

I frowned, taken aback. _What are you talking about? Why the hell are you talking like that?_ I thought for a moment, and noted that this could be some strange club. There were actually people in this world who formed clubs that centered on points of interest such as history. _Aw, man. Just my luck. I'm stuck here with a group of weirdos._ I moved myself so that I was leaning casually against the tree trunk instead of standing awkwardly apart from it. "Wait- _Whence_ I came from? Dude, honestly, if this is some sick joke, it's really not funny."

"This is no laughing matter," the short man said gruffly. "Tell us whence you came from and what your business is in the forest." I saw his hand reach slowly towards the hilt of his axe. I assumed this was just instinct, and I knew I could easily dodge a midget with an axe, but this action no doubt made me a bit uneasy.

I stared at him in disbelief, lowering my eyebrows and opening my mouth partway. _Is that a serious question?_ "I was hunting people," I said loudly, my crude sense of humor interrupting my common sense. I had an urge to laugh at that moment. But I stopped midsmile when I saw the look on the short man's face, which looked at me as though I had said something sick and wrong. No one laughed or made any sound. _Okay, so they don't have my sense of humor._ This didn't bother me. Most people thought my jokes were crude and sick.

"Ah, come on- I was just- I was just _joking_." I tried to lighten the mood by laughing myself. "Seriously, is that an honest question?"

"It would not have been asked had it not been an honest question," the lithe man said. I looked at him in exasperation. I kept having some feeling that he knew I was lying, that he knew my motives, my strengths, my weakness. He just _knew_.

"Well," I said briskly. "If you'll understand, since we're in such hard times, I think I'll keep that information secret until you tell me who you are." _Dude, I can't believe they haven't guessed that I was lost yet._

The lithe and knowing man allowed a small curve of his lips. "Then at least allow us to direct you to your home village. It seems that you have wandered astray, and it is very obvious that your injury has delayed you." He took a step towards me and took me by the arm. I stiffened, and tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. "Do not be alarmed. I shall not hurt you. But you shall hurt yourself if you continue to shift your weight onto your ankle."

_Well. I suppose he did guess after all. Spoke too soon._ My attention was turned back to his hand, which now had a firm grasp on my upper arm. _Ach, get off me!_ "Whoa, buddy, can you, like, back up a little there?" I said sarcastically. I knew he was right, and I should get off of my ankle, because I could feel it throbbing slightly.

"Come," he persuaded. "Sit down." He didn't answer to my comment. I kept jerking against his pull, but my efforts did absolutely nothing. He easily guided me over to where the four boys were sitting in a small group, and sat me down. I admit that my ankle felt much better after taking my weight off of it. But I was very peeved with the lithe man, and how he had grabbed me and pulled me over to the spot. I opened my mouth to protest, along with the uttering of other statements, but he spoke first.

"Now, Jane," he said, his voice smooth and clear. He sat crosslegged across from me. "You shall tell me the name of your home village."

"Say pretty pretty please with a cherry on top," I said, knowing very well that I was being very annoying and exasperating. I gave him a cheesy smile that masked the anger that was within. But he continued to look at me expectantly, cool and confident, and I suspected that he wasn't easily affected by taunting or anything of the sort. I sighed. "Augusta, I live in Augusta. Obviously you're just passing through. And I'd hardly describe it was a home village."

If he was at all effected by my hostile attitude, he showed no sign. This, of course, confused me. Wouldn't he ever get angry? He continued to sport that calm and collected expression and said nothing. One of the boys, however, spoke up. He was the most plump of the four.

"Now, I may only be a gardner," he said with his very endearing accent, "but I know a good lot of geography, and I have never heard of an Augusta in these parts. Interesting name, that is." His face held a little bit of confusion, but it was overpowered by curiosity.

_What is wrong with these people? They've got to be lying. Right? RIGHT!_ I stared at him, my left eye narrowing as if in mid-twitch. _Then again, he is just a kid. Okay, mental note for future encounters with children: Never ever ask them for directions._ But…. Even if he was young, wouldn't he have heard about Augusta? I was beginning to wonder about the sanity of each person that surrounded me. I had my doubts about them, but all of them seemed very circumstantial and prejudiced. They were dressed strangely, although each had a certain style, as if they were representing a different nation or custom. Their accents were very foreign, but there were plenty of accents that I wasn't familiar with. They carried weapons. This was normal, but most people carried more effective and easy weapons, such as guns. These people carried swords, knives, and shields; there was even an axe, a bow, and arrows.

Someone was speaking. I turned towards the speaker; it was the man with the brown-auburn hair.

"If you do not object," he was saying, "I believe my companions and I would like to see you escorted to safety in a nearby village. We apologize for the abrupt dropping off, but we may not tarry long."

I opened my mouth, but not sound came out. _Tarry?_ I thought. _Who says that anymore? And what's with all this courtesy crap?_ I figured I should just get it over with. Just ask them for directions, or if they really insisted on it, let them lead me to the road, then get away A.S.A.P. I cleared my throat. "Ehm, yeah. Uh, sure man, that'd be peachy. But I gotta get back A.S.A.P. So… let's not do any of your 'tarrying'." I tried very hard to keep a straight face while I said this, but I couldn't help making a dry sound from inside my throat. The effort to keep from cackling was definitely breaking into pieces, and the word 'tarry' was making my eyes tear.

His eyes shifted away from me, then snapped back suddenly. He tilted his head to the left. "Pardon?"

_Pardon what?_ I felt my brow knit together. I wasn't sure what to say to that. I sat there on the ground, wondering whether they expected me to speak. And if they did, what did they expect me to say? I wiped my hands on my pants, which were completely dry from yesterday. _Well, it _has _been a day._

The blonde man turned to the lithe one with brown hair, and began to speak. The weird thing was, I couldn't understand a word he was saying. It was quiet, but loud enough for me to hear, so obviously he didn't care if I listened. I tilted my head at it. I had never heard anything quite like it, not even in the movies. I wondered if it was just some language he'd made up. But maybe it was only because his voice was fit for a choir singer. _That's stupid. Someone's voice can't just make a language sound different. It's definitely the language. What the hell are they saying?_

My thoughts never stayed on one subject for a long time. It's not that I didn't find the language strange, but other things came to my mind as well. My thoughts sometimes resembled stream of consciousness. Ah, English class. Funny, I didn't know what that meant for the test, but I can't forget it now. Presently I almost choked on my own spit because as the blonde man turned his beautiful head, his hair flowed gracefully off of his shoulder. It pulled down his back, revealing his very prominent and pointed ears.

"Oh my _God_," I gasped, screeching the last word in horror. All heads turned towards me, and the flowing speech stopped. The two chatters looked very calm and nonchalant, obviously not worried about what I had to say. The four-- I couldn't really call them children anymore, because now that I looked more closely, they didn't look or sound like children. It was only their height that really compelled me to call them children, so I decided to call them midgets, even though this was a bit insulting. I thanked the Lord none of them could hear my thoughts-- midgets looked at me also. It seemed that everyone was in their own little conversation, save for me, who was sitting like a dumbass on the ground.

I felt my eyes open really wide, and I didn't want to blink, but I had to, or my eyes would start to tear and then it would look like I was crying. I carefully swallowed, making sure that I didn't choke on my spit, and my hands started to move around on the ground, searching for a stick, or better yet, a rock, so that I could defend myself. _Oh my God, this really tops it off. I thought something was screwy before, but those- things- just top it all off._ This and the fact that I had seen someone that looked like him who had tipped ears made me feel as if I was going to pee in my pants. _Some pointy eared freak is following me! I want a restraining order!_

"Has something gone amiss?" the blonde man asked, and I suddenly thought there was a trace of amusement in his voice.

"No," I said sarcastically, and I was very thankful that my hand closed upon an average-sized rock. "No, of course nothing's goddamn _amiss_. Not when your goddamn ears are pointed! You freak, get away from me!" He had began to walk towards me. He stopped, both hands held up in a sign of peace when I help up this really little rock that I was going to throw at him.

He looked at me thoughtfully, as though this was something that happened often. "You are surprised?" he finally asked.

"No," I said acidly, "of course not. It's like, everyday, that people come walking my way with freaking pointed ears. Why the hell did you do that to yourself?" _Somethings are just cool, and some things are just not. This is just one of those not so cool things._

His lip curled just a little. I wondered if he used botox. _Okay, that would be just plain weird._ "I did nothing to myself. This is hereditary. All Elves are blessed with this feature." He kneeled down in front of me, sitting on his heels and supporting himself only on his toes. I wondered how he could do it so gracefully and not even sway. _Didn't sway even once. Doesn't that hurt?_

I felt like my mouth was an oval, and I knew my face was set into one of those "duh" faces. And I didn't like him that close to me, even though he wasn't invading my personal bubble. _Wait- Elves? What's going on? Oh my God, I'm stuck in the middle of the woods with a bunch of creepy and possibly sadistic lunatics. And one of them thinks he's an elf._

"Yah, that's real funny, bud," I said, my voice cracking horribly. "And you were following me! I saw your reflection in the creek!" Now that I had voiced my suspicions, I kind of hoped it was true, because if not, that would make _me _look like the lunatic.

"I was not following you," he said calmly. I frowned. _Ach, so I didn't see him. But I thought for sure I had…._

"Then what in hell were you doing? Because that's not funny. You might think that damn elf joke is funny, but following me isn't." And it wasn't. How many times had I read about a young girl or woman get stalked by some psychopathic murderer? And how many times had that girl or woman survived? _Stop thinking about that!_

"I merely heard your screams, and decided to scout ahead to see if you were in danger. But I could not reveal myself to you, for I might have startled you." He continued to look at me thoughtfully, as though he saw something that I would never see in myself.

_Yah, startled me. Then again, I probably would have been scared. No man wears tights. Then again, they say it takes a real man to wear pink. Maybe it takes a real man to wear tights?_

"You're funny," I said bitterly. Either he was a real lunatic, or this was all just some sick practical joke. This was very possible, because I got pranked on countless times. I was the school's biggest loser, therefore the school's biggest target. I guess I brought some of it upon myself; I wasn't exactly a social kind of gal. I wasn't exactly a social kind of anything. So I guess you could say I brought some of it upon myself. "You're something. You're really something," I said, glaring at him bitterly. He didn't say anything, just stayed where he was, looking at me like he know all about me.

"Well," I said crisply, "I gave you my name, my home 'village', all that good stuff. I think it would be about time for you to tell me your names." I said the word 'village' more loudly than the other.

"Is that so?" the blonde man asked. He looked straight at me, his eyes boring into mine. I definitely did not like this. I mean, I wouldn't mind having a hot guy stare intensely into my eyes, but his gaze was just too intense. I quickly looked away, towards the lithe man, who was directly behind the blonde.

"I shall not reveal to you my name until you reveal yours," the blonde man said quietly, but his words rang and echoed in my ears. Did he know that I had lied? _But how would he? I didn't make any slip-up! I'm an excellent liar!_ But it was obvious enough to me that I was not a good enough liar, and this blonde man knew that my name was not Jane.

"I told you," I insisted, trying to be really suave, and this time I was, "my name's Jane. Remember I told you that?" I didn't bat an eyelash, just said it really smooth. _Ah, my talent has come back to me._

The blonde archer shifted his position, sighing lightly. "I am tired of this game, Little One," he said nonchalantly. "You and I both know that your real name is not Jane. I do not like liars, and 'tis not safe for yourself to be lying in this days. You will reveal to us your true name."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry, I failed to specify something. This will NOT be a Legomance. My character will not have any affair with any member of the Fellowship other than vague friendships. If even that. I don't think she'll really be with them long enough to have more than an aquaintence.

_Meltintalle_


	6. Jokes

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**Jokes**

_**Recap: **The blonde archer shifted his position, sighing lightly. "I am tired of this game, Little One," he said nonchalantly. "You and I both know that your real name is not Jane. I do not like liars, and 'tis not safe for yourself to be lying in this days. You will reveal to us your true name."_

I wrinkled my nose. _Little One?__ What the hey?_ And what right did he have to tell me I was a liar? I mean, I was, but it was still something that not everyone would willingly say to another person. Most people were way too chicken. Though, I have to admit, he probably knew I would be no threat to him. Even if I did try to throw him a punch, the guy had a knife. I had no idea how fast he could whip it out and plunge it into my flesh, but I figured it must be pretty past, considering he kept it out on his belt for everyone to see, almost like he was bragging, saying, 'Don't mess with me. I have a knife and I know how to use it.'

_Should I tell them my name?_ I wondered. I figured it wouldn't really matter, in the long run. And these people _had _saved my life. They'd even given me some of their food, too, so I figured that maybe my name wouldn't be such a big issue after all they'd done for me. I could just give them my first name, after all. It's not like you can know all about a person by knowing their first name.

"My name's Lalaine," I said finally. "Now will you tell me who you people are?"

The lithe man's face broke out into a smile. He had a nice smile, too. A lot of people just had regular smiles, smiles that didn't go into their eyes, but I really thought he had a real genuine smile. "Well met, Lalaine," he said. "I am called Aragorn, son of Arathorn." He strode towards me, bent to take my hand in his, and bushed his lips against it.

I had thought that his taking my hand had been invading my personal boundaries, but I was thoroughly disgusted when he kissed my hand. I quickly ripped it away from him, whiping the spot on my pants. "Uh, yah," I said hesitantly. _You did _not_ just kiss my hand! That is so wrong!_ I couldn't think of a time that anyone had bowed to me or kissed my hand. It just wasn't the normal way of greeting people.

"You may call me Strider if it pleases you," he finished.

_So that's what- er, who- Strider is. Well. That clears that up._ I nodded my head in recognition as the eight others introduced themselves. The short, stout man with the helmet was Gimli, son of Gloin. He said he was a dwarf. I wasn't sure what this "son of" crap was, but I went along with it anyway. The blonde archer in front of me, who claimed that he was an elf, introduced himself as Legolas. _Lego-what?_ He had to repeat it to me about five times before I got it right. The man with the shield and auburn hair was called Borormir. The dark-haired midget introduced himself as Frodo, and his plump gardener friend was Samwise, but he told me to call him Sam. The last two midgets introduced themselves as Pippin and Meridoc. Meridoc had to repeat his name about five times to me too. So after my fifth or sixth attempt at pronouncing his name, he just gave up and told me to call him Merry.

"Merry," I repeated for the second time, and he nodded his head. _Well, I feel smart._ I could barely pronounce their names right. But I didn't feel too bad, because their names were the most unusual ones I'd ever heard. "So how come you kids are out here? Aren't you supposed to be in school?" I only said this so that I wouldn't have to have that awkward silence. It always comes after you introduce yourself to someone who doesn't really care. You both never know what to say.

Merry cleared his throat, giving me a little grin. "Now, that may be some wee thing we need to straighten up. We are not children, as you believe us to be. We're hobbits."

"Hobbits?"

"Yes," he said, nodding his head amiably, "hobbits."

He looked perfectly okay with the idea that he just called himself a hobbit, whatever that was. Which, to tell the truth, I had not the slightest idea. _Are you sure you didn't hit your head too? Ok, Dwarf, I can believe that. I mean, that's not uncommon. But an Elf? And hobbits? Anything as made up as that word is really offensive. What did they think, that I was born yesterday?_ "Yeah, whatever buddy. But I'm not that dense. I'm not that gullible."

"Pardon?" he asked, frowning in confusion. I couldn't believe it. He really didn't realize what he was saying.

"And I don't appreciate the elf joke. That insults my intelligence. Really."

"I am not joking."

I sighed, smiling a tight smile that showed I had only a little patience left. "It was funny while it lasted, but not anymore. Just drop it, will you?" _An elf.__ Good grief._ I rolled my eyes, my gaze falling onto Legolas, who was now leaning casually against another tree and looking at me as though I was some kind of medical experiment. There was silence. I hated silence; it was so empty, and lonesome. I hated being lonely. I needed to talk, so it wouldn't be so quiet. "So, how long a walk will it be to reach that town? A half hour? Forty-five minutes?"

Aragorn picked up a sort of packed bag and strode back to where I was sitting. "I am afraid that will take at least a day or two," he said, sighing and kneeling down next to me. Before I could figure out what he was doing, he had shoved my pant leg up to my knee, and was gently unlacing my boot.

"What the- What the hell are you doing?" I hissed, thrusting my leg away from him and to my left. I really didn't like people touching me, especially my feet. I didn't know why; people touching my feet just bothered me. People touching any part of me bothered me, really. I don't know what it was. I remember once my fourth grade teacher put her hand on my shoulder, and I all but freaked out. No, actually, I did freak out. She was really concerned, and asked me all these questions about home and my mom, but I just assured her that I didn't like people to touch me. Then she asked the oddest thing. What was I going to do when I got married, she asked. I didn't know how to answer that, but when I thought about it later, I got kind of insulted and disgusted. I guess if I just wasn't the touching kind, then I wasn't the marrying kind either. _How did I get from the subject of my foot to being married?_

"I shall not hurt you. But if you leave your ankle as it is, it shall hurt. You only landed in an awkward position, so I believe you will be able to walk." He started untying the leather straps on his pack carefully. I guessed that was his first aide kit.

"So?" I asked, completely peeved. "I can walk now. You don't need to be touching my feet." Even though I was annoyed, I was really glad that I would be able to walk and that it wasn't really a sprained ankle. Worst case scenario: having to be carried by someone because my ankle hurt too much to walk on. That would've been really embarrassing.

"You can not just put your weight on it immediately without some care," he said, his voice expressing amusement, as if this was obvious. "Legolas and I will need to make a brace. You needn't use it for more than two or three days, and then you may only need to wrap it." As he said this, Legolas kneeled down on the other side of me, holding two carefully cut, small pieces of wood in his hands. Aragorn had extracted some kind of long and thin cloth out of the bag.

I couldn't think of a good excuse to make him leave it alone, so I just said, "Okay, fine. You can do it." I actually felt myself start to sweat. I was letting down my guard. If either of them decided to whip out one of their knives, I was done for. Aside from this, I was really hoping I wouldn't laugh too much if they actually touched my foot instead of my ankle. I hated to admit it, but I was really ticklish on my feet and stomach. And there was also the fact that I hadn't washed my feet since the day before. _Ah, please don't let my feet smell too much._ I felt my face redden when my boot was removed. If they smelled anything, nothing was said.

"Would you like someone to hold your hand?" Aragorn's voice broke apart my ridiculous thoughts. I looked at him in disbelief, amazed that he actually voiced the question.

"_No_," I said, my voice taking on a "valley girl" twang, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. _You'd think they would've got it by now. You know, that I don't like to be touched. God, I feel like they're my doctors._ I'd always hated going to the doctor's office and the nurse in school. I used to go to the nurse's office when I was little when I didn't feel well. I remember the nurse was this kind of overweight woman (I think I called her a beast in sixth grade), and she'd always feel all over my face and I'd always wonder why she needed to do that if I had a thermometer in my mouth.

But as embarrassed as I was, when I felt the pressure on my ankle, it felt really good. I knew it was swollen, because before he had begun to wrap it, I had seen my ankle. It had been really red and just a little swollen, but swollen none the less.

"Have you any other injuries?" Legolas asked as he finished wrapping it. Then he quickly began to carefully put my boot back on, tying the laces very loosely. I was very glad my boots had such large spaces for my ankles. Boys' shoes were much cheaper and more comfortable than girls'.

"I hit my head a couple of times, but it's not bleeding or anything," I said. I knew there was nothing you could do for a couple of bruises, so I thought it was safe enough to say. Legolas motioned for me to try to stand, and held out his hand to help me, but I purposely avoided it and got up by myself. I carefully put my weight on both of my feet, and was relieved that I only felt slight pressure.

"Strider!" The urgent call of Frodo's voice sliced through the air, and I jumped a little. He said something else, and I thought it sounded something like 'ores' or something like that, but I wasn't sure. Aragorn looked towards him quickly, then looked into the woods. I frowned, looking towards the hobbit. He was holding a blade in the air for everyone to see. I normally would have been completely uninterested, but something about the sword was very peculiar. There seemed to be an aura of light surrounding it, making it glow slightly even in the broad daylight.

Personally, I would have thought it was pretty cool to have your sword be glowing like that. But that's just me. Obviously, Frodo didn't share my opinion, as his face was very white and he looked really nervous. _Wonder if he got that from K-Mart or something. I think I remember seeing something like it there._ But it actually looked as though the blue light was collecting around the knife from the outside, instead of shining through from the interior.

My thoughts were interrupted abruptly when I felt my hand being seized, and suddenly I was being pulled to my right. Gimli was telling me urgently to hurry up and follow him, but I couldn't see how I could follow him, seeing that he was practically dragging me with him. For such a short guy, he was pretty strong. He suddenly stopped abruptly, though, to catch another knife in his hand. I looked behind and to the side, and saw that Legolas had thrown him his sword. _What if he hadn't caught that?_ I wondered, amazed that Gimli had actually grasped the handle and managed to look somewhat graceful while doing so.

He quickly thrust the hilt into my hands. "Defend yourself only when necessary. Do not confront anyone if you can help it! Go!" He gave me a hard shove away from the group, a very strong hint that he wanted me to leave.

"Where the hell am I supposed to go?" I called to his retreating back. Yet again, I was completely and totally shocked. Did they honestly expect me to run away? And why? And most importantly, where the heck was I supposed to go? I shook my head, then decided that there was absolutely no reason why I should leave. There wasn't any danger anywhere around us. I walked back to where the nine of them stood.

"Uh, guys?" I looked at them, each with some kind of weapon held loosely in their hands, watching, waiting for something to happen. Or someone to come. "What're you doing?" Just as I said this, though, Legolas said something to Aragorn. I couldn't understand it; it was in that strange, flowing language, but he said it so harshly that I frowned. _What's going on?_

"You cannot stay here," Aragorn said, turning towards me. "If you run north now, you will escape battle. Go and do not delay!" And his tone seemed to add, "Battle is no place for you."

"What are you _talking_ about?" I held the sword up as if it was some kind of club. I had not the slightest idea of how to hold it. So how did he expect me to defend myself? Just throw it and hope it knocks out my opponent? Because I sure as hell wasn't going to stab anyone. I would probably mess up doing it too, if I had to resort to that, because I have the most aweful aim. I couldn't throw a good punch until I was in seventh grade. I failed horribly at any sport that involved my throwing any object to another classmate. I could catch it, of course, but I had the worst aim.

Just as I was thinking this, though, Legolas whipped his bow up and notched his arrow in only a second or two, aimed slightly to his right, and released. I watched it streak past and in between the trees, heading out of sight smoothly and rapidly. My mouth dropped open. There was a piercing scream almost immediately afterwards, a scream of anguish, terror, and surprise. The woods seemed to echo with that scream seconds after. I had never heard such a sound as this. I had heard screams, don't get me wrong, screams full of terror and anger, but this one was somehow different. My ears seemed to react to the silence with a shrill buzz. But the silence was broken.

I screamed. _Oh my God, he just shot somebody!_ I looked at him in horror. He did not look at me, though Sam and Merry both looked at me as though I had lost my mind. There was a light clank; my borrowed sword lay on the ground, my shaking hands up by my mouth. Aragorn was yelling something, and I didn't notice until about thirty seconds later that he was yelling at me, commanding me to run and hide.

"They are upon us," Boromir said, his voice loud and heavy. But just as it sounded burdened and saddened, it also held anger.

"Oh my God!" I shrieked, and I dashed off in the direction of the scream. Would the person be alright? Was he or she hurt really badly? I heard someone scream, "Oh my God!" again, and realized that I was repeating the phrase over and over.

But I hadn't gotten more than a couple feet when I was grabbed from behind. Sam was trying desperately to keep me from darting into the trees, telling me that "they" would kill me. I flailed about and twisted until I was free, panting and trying to calm my erratic breathing. Sam was on the ground; I had punched hard him in the stomach. "You just killed someone, you bastard!" I screamed at Legolas, while I took a step in my original direction. _And you don't even care,_ I finished in my head. But I stopped short when I saw something sprawled on the ground in front of me.

I opened my mouth to ask if he was alright, but I quickly closed it. My mouth kept opening and closing, but no sound was coming out. The creature had Legolas' arrow in his chest, barely able to keep his head up. There was a trail of dark, foul smelling blood, showing that he had dragged himself on the ground to face his opponents. It was black, with no hint of red. I pulled my shaking hands up to my mouth, but they didn't lessen my scream.

I had absolutely in no part of my life seen anything like that thing sprawled in front of me. Its black teeth were sneering not at me, but at Frodo, with a hatred that I would never understand. This was somewhat lucky, though, because had it been looking me in the eyes, I would probably have fainted. Its eyes were small slits, with very dark red rims, as if it had not slept or eaten properly in a week. And its dark skin was charred, as if burned with a flame, with dry cracks in view. Its unrefined clothes consisted of layers of crude material and a layer of armor. I gagged when I saw its blood-encrusted weapons, not wanting at all to know where all of that brown crust had come from. It growled in a low gutteral voice, speaking in yet another language that I didn't know. But unlike the other language, I _knew_ I had never heard that tongue in my life. I had seen people beaten up, I had seen people stabbed with wooden stakes, knives, and even a kitchen fork once. This was the kind of neighborhood that I had grown up in. But I had never seen something so hideous as this creature before me.

It screamed as a long knife was driven into its flesh, through the center of its back. Aragorn quickly wrenched his blade out of the dead creature's torso. I screamed, this time not because the creature was dead and that Aragorn had just murdered it, but for the sheer sake of the amount of blood and brutality, and also for the fact that had it been given a chance, the creature would have killed all of us in a New York minute.

There was a great thundering scream, and I realized that while I had been frozen in my position of horror, there had been a gradually increasing sound of heavy, pounding feet. And now that my trance was broken, the sound seemed louder than an explosion. Twenty or so of the same breed as the dead being on the ground burst through the trees, baring their teeth and bearing the same crude weapons.

And as I was standing in my place, dumbfounded, the others rushed forward to meet their obvious enemies, save for Legolas, who shot arrow after arrow so quickly that I could barely watch them land in their targets before another was shot. And I was suddenly very afraid. I was in the midst of a bloody spat, a perfect target because I was standing very still, and I very much doubted that I would get out of this without having to face one of the creatures with the knife. The knife! _Shit!_ my mind screamed, and I quickly turned around to look for the glittering whiteness of it. I finally found it, after what seemed like hours. This was a good thing, but it also happened to be lying underneath one of the dead, or (I hoped not) almost dead, creatures.

I quickly ran over to it, very luckily not encountering anyone. I grasped the handle and tugged as hard as I could, feeling very paranoid. As soon as it was free, I whipped around in a circle, looking for any danger near me. Many of the creatures were dead already. I desperately hoped that they would be finished off soon. I knew this was horrible, because that would mean that the nine people would be doing all the work for me, but I was so afraid that I was ready to faint just from fear.

Suddenly, I sensed movement behind me. I whipped around, and discovered with a start that the creature that I had thought to be dead on top of the sword was, indeed, alive. I figured it had probably only been unconscious for a few minutes. I gave a short shriek as I realized that the brute was standing and aiming the hilt of its sword for my head. I leapt out of the way as fast as I could, but I didn't anticipate its next move quick enough. I was walloped directly in the side of my forehead, and I felt my head snap back violently. It hit at an angle, though, so I knew that it would not do any perminant damage. But I fell to the ground anyway, feeling tears spurt out of my eyes involuntarily. I twisted my body so that I wouldn't dislocate my shoulder, breaking the fall with two hands instead of one, but my elbows quickly gave way. I fell forward, my chin hitting the ground, causing me to snap my teeth down onto my lip, and I felt it slit open with a warm, tingling sensation afterwards.

I wanted to stay where I was, with my lip bleeding, and my head aching tremendously, but I knew I'd get killed. Or badly injured. I quickly rolled a full revolution to my right, which was lucky, because just a split second later the creature's downward-angled knife was plunged into the soft soil beside me. I quickly swung myself up off the ground, ready to plunge my weapon into whatever piece of flesh was closest to me, but just was I stood on my own two feet, the creature's eyes glassed over horrifically.

There was suddenly silence, and I heard the crude metal of the sword clank on the ground loudly. Only a second later, the creature's form was limp and it dumbled to the ground. This was a great relief, but it sort of fell on top of me. I screamed with fear and complete disgust as I was pushed to the ground, the body laying on top of me, an arrow embedded deep into its back.

I vaguely remember feeling the weight lifted off of me, because it was done very quickly. But I was having a hard time breathing, and my head was hurting atrociously. There was one form looming overhead of me, one faraway black silhouette, with a strong, yet faraway voice. And then there were two, three, four, five, but then there were none.

I groaned, and tried to roll over, but two hands were immediately holding me in place. I was aware that I was gaining consciousness, and I quickly ceased my movements. My surroundings were becoming more and more evident through my senses, which were slowly beginning to function properly. I was outside, I most definitely was not alone, and I was hurt.

I whimpered, something I don't usually do, and opened my eyes slowly. Aragorn was kneeling next to me, as were Sam and Legolas. I could hear quiet conversation in the surrounding background, so I knew that the others were very close by.

"Tylenol," I moaned, "I need Tylenol, Aspirin, Motrin, whatever you have." _Just give me some drugs…._ I put my hand up to my head, and my eyes snapped open when I felt a piece of cloth lying on my forehead, the center sticky, damp, and warm. Aragorn grasped my wrist firmly, not allowing me to touch the spot anymore.

"Hush," he said in a voice that I guessed was soothing for him. He was frowning, as if in confusion. "You shall feel well in a while." I watched him reach behind himself and extract two pieces of food. It looked like a piece of dried fruit and another piece of dried meat. I took it without so much of a peep of protest, because I was so hungry I could've eaten a cow.

"What the hell where those things?" I demanded, my fingers itching to feel my neck. I knew I had thrown it back after the hilt of the creature's sword had struck my head, and I had probably strained some of the muscles. Right now it just felt kind of numb, but I knew it wasn't. I probably couldn't feel it because I hadn't moved yet. I was not looking forward to testing it out.

"What were what things?" Merry asked, shifting so that he wasn't sitting on his feet anymore.

"Those-" I stopped, trying to remember what Frodo had said when his sword had begun to glow. "Ores? What were they called? Ores? Oaries? Ovaries? Fours?"

"Orcs," Gimli said, and his voice held contempt and anger.

I squinted my eyes. "Orcs?" I had never heard of anything being called such a name before. There wasn't even a slang word that related closely to it. "You people are really starting to scare me. There's no damn thing as an orc. I'm 19 years old, and I have seen a lot of stuff, but I have _never _in my life seen anything like _that_." I took a shaky breath, trying to suppress my nervousness. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so spooked. I just didn't get afraid of people that much anymore, because I figured that anyone who came my way could be defeated. I was the one who usually locked the doors at night. I was the one who had to hide in the closet when my mom wasn't home to make it look as though no one was home when someone did break in. I was the one who had to deal with my mom. I had seen what people were capable of doing, but I had also found out what I was cabable of. But those monsters were just… different.

"You have been protected then," Boromir said, joining us. I guessed that he had meant that I had been sheltered. This was, of course, ironic. I had to be the most unsheltered girl in the entire world. I couldn't remember a time when I didn't have to look out for myself. There was never anyone else there to look out for the both of us. I was always the one looking after myself and another. If there was another present, which wasn't very often.

"Protected? You've got no idea what my life is like. I'm the protector." I didn't know how corny this sounded until I'd said it. I felt myself redden a little. "I mean, I protect myself. Those things looked like some kid's picture of a big, scary monster. And why did they just attack you like that?"

Boromir gazed at me thoughtfully. His face had a few minor scratches on his face, but he looked as though he thought nothing of them. "They are orcs," he simply said, "and that is how they behave."

_Okay, how does that answer my question?_ I always hated when people dodged my questions. It either means that they don't know the answer, or they don't want to corrupt my dainty virgin ears. So they speak in little riddles so they think they sound intelligent enough to actually know the answer. "But what is an orc? Because I've never heard anything like it."

"Do you mean to tell us that you have absolutely no idea, or are you trying to lie again?" Merry asked. I could tell he was nervous about asking this.

Under different circumstances, I would have become very angry, but I did, after all, lie to them once, so it would seem possible that I would lie again. So I didn't hold it against him. _Well, at least he finally got what I was trying to say this whole time,_ I thought. "Dude, I seriously have no idea. I mean, you don't have to explain what they are anymore, because, believe me, I got a good view. Not to mention a good sniff too, but let's not get into _that_. I'm just saying that I've never seen anything like it."

"Mayhap that is well," Legolas said. "Let us hope that you never see any more orcs."

_Mayhap?__ Oh, this guy just cracks me up. And he's hot, too. But way too weird. Ah._ This wasn't the first time I had noticed how attractive he was. It was a good thing I was lying down; it wasn't possible for me to drool and make a complete fool of myself. "So," I said briskly, sitting up. I regretted this just a little, because I felt a little light-headed. But whatever medicine they had used on my forehead was dulling the pain very effectively. "Let's get going to that… um, village." I felt funny saying it.

"Are you feeling well enough to travel, Lady?" Aragorn asked, offering his hand in asistance. I stared at him hard. Maybe if I looked at him long enough with that expression of disgust he would quit fooling around. "Lady?" he asked. I was trying very hard by now to control my emotions, which were not quite in check. Eventually, I had to say something.

"What is going on? Will all of you stop horsing around? I can't stand it anymore, it's giving me the biggest pain in the ass. So will you just do my a favor and save your sick elf jokes and all that crap for someone else?" I knew I could've said it much more politely, but I was so fed up that I hadn't thought enough to think before I spoke, and then it all just poured out of my mouth. I admit, the jokes weren't too bad. I mean, they were obviously fooling around, but Aragorn had just pulled the last straw. _Lady?__ First off, I'm not even a Lady. I'm not fit to even be near a real 'Lady'. And who talks like that anyway? Who calls someone 'Lady'? Good grief._

"Horsing around? What is that?" Frodo asked, frowning in confusion and doubt.

"Oh my God! For the love of Pete! You people are nuts! You're driving me up a wall with all these supposed 'jokes'. And I'm not even going to answer that!" I shot to Frodo, referring to his question. "Did you people, like, live in caves or something all your lives?"

"Now, see here!" Gimli protested angrily. His hand rested on the handle of his axe. I could tell that one of my statements had really offended him. "It has been a custom of the Dwarves to live in marvelous caves-"

"Gimli," Aragorn said quietly, "do not heed ignorant insults." He turned to me, completely calm, which meant that he hadn't been affected in the least. Actually, no one save for Frodo and Gimli looked very offended, but some did look a little surprised. "What is offensive to you?"

"What's offensive? What is _offensive_?" I couldn't believe he had even said that to me. And he looked completely calm and collected about it, too. "You people are driving me nuts! You dress weird. And you talk like psychopaths who think they're from the medieval age! No one on Earth can be that weird, and I am telling you to stop right now, because I'm going crazy!" I said this all in one big, long breath, and I panted a little bit to get my breath back. There was a moment of complete silence, save for the sounds of the forest. I wanted to add that my insult wasn't ignorant, I actually kind of thought it was straight on, but I didn't think that would make the situation any better, so I kept my mouth shut for once.

Pippin opened his mouth, then obviously decided against it. But a moment later, he opened it again, saying timidly, "You meant Middle-earth?" He said it as though I had made a grammatical mistake while I was talking.

I stared at him, sort of glaring with my lips cracked open slightly and shaking my head in disbelief. "_No_, I did _not_ mean Middle-earth. What the hell is Middle-earth? Are you on the same level as me? This is what I'm talking about. You people say weird things, and I'm going up a wall." I was standing suddenly. I didn't remember getting up off the ground. Everyone else stood, too, as if _I _was the strange one.

"Then what is your meaning by just Earth? You do not say Middle-earth?" he asked, tilting his head to the side and looking up at me.

"_No_," I insisted, "I _don't_ say Middle-earth. We're on Earth, not Middle-earth. What do you call the rest of the world, then? East Earth? West Earth?"

"We are in Middle-earth," Pippin persisted. "We do not call the land 'Earth'. It's correct name is Middle-earth or Arda."

"No, it's _not_," I argued, stomping my foot. Now, I don't usually do stupid, sissy things like stomping my foot all the time. But under these circumstances, I wanted to fling myself up against the tree trunk to prove my point. Unfortunately, being the absolute genious that I am, I slammed my bad foot down. Pain shot up from my ankle all the way into my knee, and I cursed loudly, bending over to seize it.

"Lady," Aragorn said calmly, addressing me. He opened his mouth to continue, but I cut him off for a moment.

"If you call me Lady _one _more time, I swear I'll take your sword and shove it up your ass." I wasn't sure why I was so incredibly mouthy all of a sudden. I hadn't given them any warning, so I guess I shouldn't have said that so harshly. I really should've given them warning about my temper, like some foreshadowing or something.

I watched as his eyebrows raised in surprise. He didn't look afraid, or offended, but he did look surprised. "Very well," he said, "what would you like to be called?"

"Lalaine's fine." My voice sounded sort of artificial. I cleared my throat.

He nodded slowly. "Lalaine, you are wasting your time in arguing about the name of this land. It is called Middle-earth, or Arda, and there shall be no more argument. As for our supposed joking, we are doing no such thing. You have just viewed battle, something that young women such as yourself do not often see by chance. You are feeling overwhelmed, you must try to stay calm."

I must admit that he was right; I might have been going through some sort of shock from seeing that 'battle', as he called it. But it wasn't that big a deal to me. I mean, sure, I was scared enough to pee in my pants, and I admit that I'd never been in a real battle like that before. But I had seen blood spilled, and heard screams, though not as ferocious, and felt pain, though not always as intense. So, sure, I guess I could have been in some shock, but my opinion of their sanity wasn't effected by it in the least.

"Look, I know I'm no great warrior, and I can't fight worth crap, but I've seen my share of violence. So don't pull that 'women shouldn't see that much blood and guts or they'll faint' crap." Of all things, I was really into women's rights. I couldn't stand it when women were treated differently. Sure, sometimes it was in our favor, like the idea of protecting us from being killed, but sometimes things like that just drive me nuts. When guys try to act all tough around girls, just to show that they're strong and masculine, that just makes me want to whack my head against a tree. It's all just a show, and it comes from the 'fact' that women are not as tough as men.

"I did not say that," he said firmly. "I have no doubts about your strength, nor any other female's. I am saying that one so young does not usually encounter such things. Children should not be exposed to battle."

"Are you calling me a child?" That was another thing I hated. I looked younger than I really was, mostly because of my clothes, and also because I didn't really try to make myself look very feminine. So a lot of people thought I was about two years younger than my 19 years.

Aragorn smiled knowingly, and I almost felt embarrassed. I admit, I can be very impulsive sometimes. "You twist my words. I did not call you a child. Come, let us cease to argue. Your shirt is not in the best condition. Go with Legolas. He will lead you to the nearest water source." He nodded, and I immediately glanced down at my shirt. It was covered in a dried, sticky substance, and I had a slight suspicion that it was that black, orc blood. I was thankful that it wasn't _my_ blood, of course, because that would not have been at all better. But I was disgusted none the less. I figured it was the blood of the orc that had fallen over on top of me when it had been killed by the arrow.

I suddenly felt sick. My stomach felt as though it was bubbling inside of me, as if its contents were boiling. Blood didn't bother me all that much. But human blood was red, and this… stuff was dark black, like some sort of infected stomach bile. But I forced myself to keep my food inside of me. I really hated throwing up. Usually the very feeling of being sick made me retch even more.

"Come," Legolas said, motioning for me to follow him. All of his movements were very subtle, so I guessed that the slight tilt of his head meant that he was motioning.

"Why isn't anyone else coming?" I asked, stepping through the trees and out of sight of the group. _Am I the only one who managed to get guts all over me?_ I was suddenly sorry I had asked. It was the dumbest thing I'd said all day. Well, maybe not the dumbest. Come to think of it, I'd said a lot of dumb things. I mumbled a quiet "never mind". I said it really quietly, so I didn't think he would've heard it. So I was prepared to say it again, but before I opened my mouth, he turned and gave me a reassuring curve of his lips.

_How the heck did he here that? And how the heck is he going to know where a dinky little stream is?_ I figured maybe if it was big enough, I'd be able to hear the water running over the rapids, but no matter how hard I listened, I couldn't hear any running water. I looked at his back. Suddenly, I wasn't all for going to the stream. I mean, I really did want to clean up a lot, but the group offered at least some form of safety.

_He's got a pack of arrows. Who carries a pack of arrows around with them? A quiver! That's what it's called. A quiver of arrows. Who does that?_ From where I was walking, I could see that the quiver was made of a dark, stiff leather, carved intricately. His bow was carved with elaborate designs also. _'That which is beautiful can be deadly',_ I quoted inside my head. I really wished I still had that white knife I had borrowed. But it was tucked back into the sheath tied around his waist with a leather strap.

I walked behind him, very suspicious, but mostly anxious and nervous. I kept reassuring myself that if he attacked me, I could always use my fists and my body to kick and punch him or something. But then I kept telling myself that if he was that skilled in archery, he could probably block a punch or kick and knock me out or something, so nothing I thought about my fists would calm me. Then I tried reasoning that I could run away from him if he turned around suddenly. But I figured that he could either shoot me with one of his arrows easily, or judging by his height, he would outrun me in a second.

Either way, things were looking pretty bad for me if he decided to pull something. I really wanted to pick up a stick or something just in incase I needed something to smack him with. But I was too scared that he'd hear me and turn around.

He actually did turn around once, to look at me. But I wasn't sure why, because he could obviously hear me behind him. That was another thing weird about him. He didn't make any sound when he walked. I mean, I know you can't exactly make a total racket when there's just grass on the ground, but there were twigs and dried up leaves all over the place. I even watched him step on them. But the dried leaves didn't crunch up, and the sticks didn't snap. It was almost as if he was walking on some invisible platform that was right on top of the twigs and leaves. I tried to tell myself that there were plenty of people who could walk noiselessly very well, but nobody can be _that_ quiet.

After about five minutes of walking, I heard the sound of running water. I could hardly hear it, because it was a bit of a slow-moving brook. I wondered if he lived near this place or something. But I distinctly remembered them saying something about traveling. _Then how could he have heard that dinky little sound? That's impossible!_

"How did you know where this was?" I asked as we walked down to the bank. He made absolutely no noise, so I felt as though I was making a complete ruckus.

He didn't answer me for a moment. He wasn't thinking, he was just taking his time in answering. And the strange thing is, he wasn't doing it on purpose. It was almost as if it was normal for him, like he had all the time in the world to answer questions. "I followed the sound of the water." It was just a plain simple sentence. He didn't try to elaborate it or anything.

I looked at him weird. There was absolutely no way he could've heard this little dinky stream from all the way over there. "You're funny," I said. "No, seriously." I dipped my hands in the water while I said this. It was freezing cold, but I figured it wouldn't be warm because the air was chilly. I wondered about that sudden temperature change, but I couldn't think of any explanation other than the fact that nature works in strange ways.

He took off his pack quietly and took out a soft looking shirt. He held it out to me with one hand, and I hesitantly took it from him. I wasn't sure how to act. I appreciated it, of course, but I felt a bit funny taking his shirt. I was sure I would feel funny wearing it. He nodded his head at me, as though he was reassuring me that I could take it.

The material was very soft in my hand, which was pretty rough. I couldn't place what the material was though. It felt like silk, but I definitely looked more sturdy than silk or satin. It was sort of a green or grey color, changing slightly when I moved it around. I actually felt a little excited that I would get to wear it. I didn't usually get to wear nice things that felt like silk. I don't think I'd ever worn silk or satin. I almost felt guilty for being the one to wear it, instead of him. I mean, it was his shirt. I held it out in front of me hesitantly.

"I don't know if I should wear this," I said quietly. I almost didn't feel worthy to put that clean, pure material upon my dirty and corrupted skin.

"I shall give you your privacy to put it on," Legolas said, basically insisting that I put it on. But he wasn't insisting at all. He was… commanding me. This was pretty weird; I was used to people telling me what to do, but I didn't usually listen to them, just because they had told me to do it. But I really felt like listening to him, even if it was just some measly command such as telling me to put on a shirt. And even if I had wanted to argue with him, I wouldn't have had any time, because just about five seconds later, he was gone.

I hesitated to take off my shirt and wash up for a while, but I figured that he wouldn't barge in through the trees on me. He just didn't seem like the kind of guy to do that. I threw my foul smelling t-shirt off to the side, not even bothering to try to wash it off. I didn't think I could ever wear it again, even if I was able to get all the black blood out of it, because I would remember everything too much.

I delayed washing myself with that freezing water for about a minute. But I was still kind of afraid that Legolas would come back out of the trees and I wouldn't be dressed. I dipped my arms in the water as far as I could, then started to slosh it up my arms and onto my back. I washed as well as I could around my bra, which thankfully didn't have much blood on it other than a few dots. I guess my shirt had less of the black blood on it than it looked.

I felt my hands fun over some raised bumps in my skin, but I wasn't revolted or anything. I knew they weren't bug bites or open cuts or anything. They were actually scars from when my mom was really drunk one night. She had just given herself some shot about ten minutes ago, and I guess the stuff went into her bloodstream pretty fast. She had also drinking a beer earlier, and the empty bottle was smashed up against the wall.

She was really drunk, and she kept saying she couldn't see well. She kept asking me why, and I kept telling her that she was drunk. And each time I said it, she cried even harder. She started picking up some empty bottles that were on the couch and counter, and she threw them at me. A couple of them broke and nicked my back and arms. I don't think she meant it, though. She wasn't thinking straight. She eventually passed out, but I still had to find some napkins to clean up some of the blood. There was only a little. But she hadn't known what she was doing, so I wasn't that upset about it.

Actually, I think I was more upset after that… orc thing had knocked me out and I had woken up. I guess things like that are more scary. Drunk people are pretty scary too, but I definitely think I was more scared during the attack.

I quickly finished cleaning myself up. I was really relieved to see all of that black, sticky blood wash off of my arms. That's where it was mostly, on my arms. My shirt caught most of the rest of it. I waited about thirty seconds for myself to dry, which was kind of torturous, because the water was freezing, so it made the air seem three times as cold. As soon as I thought I was somewhat dry, I quickly slipped Legolas' shirt on. I almost sighed when I felt the cool softness of the material. Again, I felt a bit guilty for allowing my tainted skin to touch something so untainted. But it felt so good to have something so soft and smooth and comfortable on that I decided that I would borrow it as long as he let me.

Once I had the shirt on, I quickly checked my pants for blood. It was amazing, but I didn't have more than a few dots on them. They were pretty dusty though, so I hit my sides with my hands to beat out the dirt. I stood where I was for a moment, wondering just what I was supposed to be doing. Should I call for him? Had he left me and gone back to the group? Or was he waiting just out of sight? I hoped he hadn't gone back to the group, seeing how I had absolutely no sense of direction, but I also kind of hoped that he wasn't right behind one of the nearest trees.

"Um, is anyone there?" I asked at last. I said it normally. I figured that if he had heard the stream from that far away, he would hear my question. If he was close enough, that is. If he hadn't just walked away.

I looked all around myself, feeling very deserted. I let myself drop to the ground on my knees. All of a sudden I felt like crying. I actually felt like a lost child, a child who wanted her mom to come out from her hiding place. And she would hug me and kiss my forehead and tell me everything would be all right from now on. And then she would take me to her pretty house and my dad would be there, and we'd all be fine. I knew I was being stupid. I knew all of these fairy tales were pretty much dead. Everyone wished some pretty woman would come and kiss them and tell them everything was okay, and then tell them that she was their real mother. Everyone wished they could be found.

"Are you ready to walk back?"

I must've jumped about a foot. I hadn't even heard him walking, and I certainly hadn't seen him. And he was right behind me. I could reach behind me and touch him. "Don't _do_ that!" I exclaimed, breathing sort of hard. _Now that was just scary. He's like a ghost. Doesn't make any noise. That's just plain weird._ I mumbled that I was ready, and I got up quickly.

He lead me back to the group, acting the same as he had when he'd lead me to the stream. I was the only one making noises when I walked. Everything was the same. Except this time I wasn't so suspicious.

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**Author's Note:** Any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated! 


	7. Voices in the Dark

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)****

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**Chapter Five**

**Voices in the Dark**

Once we reached the rest of the group, I noticed that everyone was standing with their bags strapped to their backs, looking ready to move on. All of their bags looked as though they were made specially. I could see some of the stitching in a couple of them, and the worn material looked slightly uneven. I walked as quickly as I could to get my bag, but Sam had already bent down and picked it up for me. I felt a little uncomfortable about that. It's not that I didn't like people doing things for me, that'd be really great. But… I felt as though I was taking advantage when people did things for me. That's why I usually stuck to doing things by myself. That way, I'd also be supporting my independence.

We began to walk, mostly in two's or three's. Aragorn and Boromir were leading, and Legolas was taking up the back. I started off near Aragorn, but I was slower than everyone. My ankle was stiff, I could hardly move it properly. It wasn't hurting or anything, which I was very thankful for, but I was definitely slower than usual. I really hoped I wasn't going to slow them all down. But most of all, I was sorry I was this slow because I wanted to get away from them as soon as I could. It wasn't that I didn't like them. I liked them fair enough, but they were so… weird. I guess it could be just a big joke- I'd actually feel better if I knew it was a big joke- but there was a very prominent possibility that they were dead serious.

None of them seemed to want to talk at all, which was fine with me for a while. I liked silence, generally because most of the time I was alone. But when I was alone, I could always start talking to myself or something if I got bored. I really had to pay attention in case I started to do that. I really didn't feel like starting to talk to myself right in front of these people. They were weird themselves, but talking to yourself is just plain stupid.

For a while, I had to concentrate on not concentrating on anything in particular. I didn't feel like thinking over the last few events. That was another trouble with me. I would do things, or go through things, and people would want me to talk about it. Sometimes I did want to talk about it, but more often than not I definitely wanted to stuff the memory or memories in a closet and lock the door.

At first, I tried to concentrate on walking faster than I was, but this didn't work. I did eventually walk faster, but I started to get really out of breath, and I was beginning to sweat. So I slowed down a little. In any case, I kept looking down at my feet, and the grass that was flattened by the rest of the group kept reminding me that it might've been the same grass those guys with horses had trampled on.

So I tried to concentrate on the fact that I was heading home, and I'd never have to deal with these people ever again. This wasn't comforting, because for one thing, my home wasn't that much more safe than the forest, which led me into thinking that those people on the black horses were probably still in here…. Lurking in some dark part of the forest…. I quickly looked for another thing to think about that wouldn't involve black horses and billowing black capes.

_No, no, shouldn't think about it. It's done, right? There's nothing that can be done. And nothing bad happened anyway. All you got was a couple bumps on your head and a hurt ankle. And they don't even hurt anymore, so stop brooding over it._ I took a deep breath, trying not to appear as if something was wrong. That was the last thing I needed; to have someone become worried that something was wrong with me. But was nothing wrong? _No, of course not! They're gone. There never going to come back. There's nothing to worry about._

_Yeah, but I'm still _scared_…._ I almost stopped walking right there. Had I just admitted that I was afraid? I know I had said so before, when I was fighting, but I had only been vaguely aware of the fact. To come out and say it straight… to say "I'm still scared" isn't something I do everyday. I don't mean to imply that I'm some tough girl who can deal with anything that comes her way without so much of a blink of an eye, because believe me, I'm not. But I don't usually admit to myself the truth, especially if it's something as hard to say as that.

I actually wanted to talk about it. I wanted to rethink about what happened. I wanted someone to tell me that everything was okay, that those men wouldn't come back with their screams and their fast horses. But, of course, the one time I actually wanted to talk to someone about it, there didn't seem to be anyone around who wanted to talk with me. The nine of them seemed as if they were perfectly fine with what had happened.

Then again, they all might have been doing the same thing I was trying to do: hide their uncertainty. But I just couldn't imagine Aragorn, Boromir, Gimli, or Legolas being afraid. I hardly knew them, but I just couldn't imagine it at all. All four seemed as though they had some fear repellant or something. The four midgets, or hobbits as they called themselves, didn't look afraid. But they did have some emotion written about them. I couldn't place it. At first I thought it was fear, but I realized that this definitely wasn't the case. Then I thought it could be uncertainty. Or maybe it was worry. Or maybe both? I didn't know, and I was walking in circles in my mind.

"What was it?" I blurted out, frustrated, before I realized what I was doing. I really hadn't meant to bring them into my brooding. I really hadn't, but sometimes I just couldn't keep my big mouth shut. I really had to work on that.

"Pardon?" Frodo asked. He had been walking right in front of me. I saw Aragorn and Boromir glance back at me; I knew they were listening.

"How can you just not say anything?" I asked, really looking hard for the right words. I couldn't think of how to say what I wanted to say a lot of times.

"About-"

"About what happened! You- you all just act like it never happened! Who were they? Why were they chasing me?" I knew this was very vague sounding, so I added with emphasis, "The riders in black!" I felt funny saying bringing it up in the first place, but also because it had happened before the attack. _Delayed reaction.__ Delayed worries._

Aragorn stopped walking, and of course the rest of the group followed suit. I wasn't sure what he was looking at, but it was something that was in front of him and down a little. He seemed to be concentrating on something that was hard to think about. Come to think about it, he looked as if he was having trouble breathing, or if not that, he was trying to shake off a bad migraine. When he finally turned around, I actually saw that he was the one to have slight confusion in his expression.

"The Nazgûl," he murmured quietly. He looked to the sky, as if he had explained everything.

I, of course, did not know anything that sounded as weird as that word he had just spoken. _The nasgool?__ What the hell is that? Alright, now I am _really_ sorry I brought this up._ "Yah," I said hotly. I was really trying to contain my annoyance, but this was going too far. "That really helps me a whole lot. What is it with you people? Why do you always talk in riddles? Just say what you want to say in normal English please." _You drive me crazy…._

Aragorn turned towards me so that I could see his silhouette against the light though the trees. I crossed my arms over my chest as he stepped towards me. "The Nine Riders," he said softly, as though this was a painful subject to talk about.

"Ooooh," I drawled, "that is _much_ better. Because, I know _exactly_ what that means." I didn't, of course, and I really hoped he would recognize that syrup thick sarcasm that coated my words.

"Surely you are joking."

"Obviously I'm not," I said dryly. I wished he would just stop trying to hint at what he was explaining and just explain it. I hated when people did that. You don't know something, and they're surprised like there's no tomorrow. And then they've got to make this huge deal out of it. Like, 'Hey, she doesn't know what this is! Can you _believe_ that? Can you?' I mean, they always make such a big deal out of my not knowing something for the five minutes that they could've just been telling me what it is. That always bothered me.

"They are the Dark Lord's greatest servants, intent on performing his utmost wishes," he said patiently, though quietly, as though he felt that he shouldn't be the one to tell me this.

"You need not worry about them anymore," Gimli said. "Their great mounts were defeated before we arrived in Rivendell. Their horses are common ones; they will tire easily. They will use them only to ride back to their Master. Then we may worry about them." He turned me, and urged Aragorn and Boromir to continue walking. They acquiesced, which also forced me to continue down their nonexistent path.

"Why?" I asked, curious to why they would have to be worried about later and not now. Did it even make a difference? They were still out there.

"They will not risk traveling far with fragile beasts as their mounts," he explained, turning only his head. I wondered how he could wear that helmet everyday all the time. Didn't his head get, you know, sweaty under there or anything? Wasn't it uncomfortable?

"So they go somewhere to get other transportation? Why don't they just fly?" I really tried to prevent myself from rolling my eyes at the obviousness of the situation. If those nine riders had wanted to go somewhere so fast, I would think it would be sensible just to use the road. Of course, that would be sensible if they weren't in trouble with the law. That would probably be a different story. _Well, they _were_ all in black. Maybe they weren't exactly on legal terms. That would make sense. I can't believe I didn't think of that before. Duh._

"Their next mounts may be airborne beasts," Boromir said darkly. "But let us hope this is not so. I do not wish for them to be above us."

"That would create a large disadvantage, were we to have need to depart from the protection of the forest," Aragorn agreed bleakly. He looked very tired, as if there was some great weight or responsibility on his shoulders. I felt kind of sorry for him. He looked so depressed, so sad, I just wanted to… well, I couldn't do anything, that that was what was bothering me. But I didn't know him, so why was it bothering me? That was another trouble with me. I was too soft-hearted. For all my harsh remarks and my tough exterior, I was too easily swayed. I kept telling myself that I would grow out of this as I grew older, but I hadn't seen very much improvement in the last few years.

"So they're going back to their manager now? Who's that? Some crook? A bootlegger or criminal or someone like that?"

Okay, I knew that I wasn't really into something that all of them obviously knew about. I knew I wasn't in on some club knowledge factor or something. But the way they were all looking at me, you'd think I didn't know what weed was or something. "What?" _What am I? A museum exhibit? Just tell me what the hell's going on!_

"The Dark Lord," Frodo finally whispered. After he said it, his eyes darted from left to right, then to Aragorn, as if he was asking for his permission. Aragorn didn't protest, so he relaxed.

I smacked my forehead, then immediately regretted it. I swore softly, feeling my face get hot, a reaction that often came along with pain. As soon as I recovered from that shock, I said hotly, "The _dark lord_? Doo do do do! Do do do do! Oh, scary!" I wiggled my fingers in the air as I sang the annoying tune. "You crack me up. No, really, tell me."

"Why are you never serious?" Pippin asked.

"What a question for _you_ to ask, Pip," Merry said goodnaturedly, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. Pippin grinned, nodding in reluctant agreement.

"I was serious," I said, interrupting their playful banter. "It's you who's never serious. You can't be serious. Say a name, say it's just a criminal, say anything. Just… don't say it's 'the dark lord'. That's pretty pathetic." I sighed tiredly. I really couldn't wait until I got home. I didn't care if we just got to the outsides of some rural neighborhood. At least someone would most likely have a telephone, and then I could get home. I wished I was already at home. Home might not have been much for me, with just a cot for a bed and a drunk mom, but it was still some place that I could call home.

Aragorn turned around. He walked towards the back of the group, stopping finally when he was standing directly in front of me. I frowned, tilting my head to the side, but I also had to tilt it up. He looked at me searchingly, looked at my clothes, my hair, my face, though I had no idea what for. He looked like he was trying to figure out some riddle, but I really didn't get why he had to be looking at me to do it. I didn't get why he even had to be standing in front of me to do it.

"You do not know who the Dark Lord is?" he asked finally. I wondered if that was what he was trying to figure out. _Well, it sure took you long enough._

"Is it a person?" I asked. If they were this intent on calling him the Dark Lord, then I guessed it was some sort of stupid nickname. That was somewhat believeable. I knew plenty of people who named the leaders of their gangs really stupid names. Of course, Aragorn decided at that moment that he was going to continue his search on me. He didn't even answer me. But this time, all he did was look at me face. Maybe he was trying to find out if I was lying. I guessed I was safe from that accusation, because I really wasn't lying. For once in my life.

After it seemed like hours, Aragorn turned around without so much of a word to me. "We shall be stopping for the night," he announced to the rest of the group. "The sun already sets low on the horizon. Watch for possible resting places." Then he walked to the front of the formation and continued walking.

I felt my mouth drop open like an idiot. What had just happened? I looked behind me at Legolas, my mouth still open in disbelief. Of course, he didn't offer any explanation either. He just gave me a really bland smile and nodded, signaling me to walk or we would fall behind. I turned around, but I really couldn't understand what had just happened. What was he looking at me for? Was I supposed to explain something to him? I felt so frustrated, I felt tears come to my eyes and my breathing was becoming erratic. I quickly tried to get myself under control. I didn't want anyone to notice that I was this disconcerted. So I just kept reminding myself that I would be home in a few hours. _Just a few more hours.__ They'll drop me off before they find their camping place, and I'll go home. Just a little while more._

Of course, this proved that everything was definitely not going to go as I had planned. There was a very big possibility that I would have to actually camp with them. The slim chance that I would arrive home tonight was getting slimmer. I felt my heartbeat quicken, my skin radiate heat. I knew I should say something, anything, to unleash my feelings. I wished I could hold myself upright, instead of continuing to slouch forwards when I walked. There was a feeling that I could barely stand upright, that there was something heavy on my shoulders. I was sinking slowly into dark depression, one thing that I knew had no bottom. I would sink forever, my body drifting with the dark current that was crushing the breath out of me, if I couldn't lift myself up. I took a deep breathe, straightened my spine with determination, and lifted my head out. Depression was persuasive, but I could fight it.

So I continued to walk, and I managed to keep my emotions and my thoughts to myself. I put my hand to my chest a couple of times, feeling the outline of my Ada's key against the soft material of the shirt. This gave me a mysterious reassurance, but a reassurance none the less.

I wasn't sure what I had been expecting. I wasn't expecting to go to some hotel, of course. But I hadn't actually thought that we would all be sleeping on the ground. I didn't mind, of course. I just hadn't thought that far ahead. I wasn't so sure why it was such a big surprise.

Aragorn, Boromir, and Legolas all lended me their cloaks to sleep on. I felt really guilty taking their coats, and I tried to tell them I would just… deal with the cold or something. I really hadn't wanted to do this, but I thought it would be worse for myself to nice and warm while they weren't. So I tried to give the garments back. But of course, I hadn't realized that everyone had their own sleeping supplies in their packs. So each had a sort of sleeping roll.

I laid one of the cloaks on the ground beneath me, then wrapped myself up in the other two. I had placed myself slightly apart from the group. It had just seemed the right thing to do. I felt just a little funny sleeping side by side with complete strangers, not to mention that they were all men.

I lay awake, trying to get to sleep. But I was too anxious, though I couldn't put my finger on the cause. In a way, this encounter was a bit exciting. All my life, I had dreamed that I would go on grand adventures. I would go to some distant land, where I would meet important people, and I would meet someone who would become my best friend. I would have lots of friends, friends who respected me for who I was. I would fight against robbers, I would win of course, and then everyone would like me. Well, as wonderful as this sounded to me, I knew that every young girl or boy wished they could go on grand adventures. I was just foolish enough to think that it could turn into reality.

In some strange sense, this was my big adventure. And so far, I hadn't met any best friends, I hadn't been glorified in battle, and the whole time I had felt as if I was going to burst any moment. I guessed grand adventures were never all they were told to be. I guessed they were told just like everything else: as lies. _I guess nothing is ever as it seems._

I sighed, rolling over and shivering. The air was very chilly despite the two cloaks I was wrapped in. And suddenly the feeling of lonliness and of being lost returned. I was anxious, and this time I knew that my lonliness was fueling it. I guess anyone else would be better off than me. Anyone else in this situation had something to look forward to. Any other girl could just go home and cry into her mother's shoulder. Any other girl would go to her best friend and tell him or her about all of this. Any other girl would have someone to tell. Any other girl would have someone to go to.

Then I was tired of thinking. I really wanted to go to sleep, but, again, I wasn't sure about that. I wondered if I should stay awake, just in case. I didn't lift my head to see who was still awake. I knew Legolas was still awake; he was sitting off to the side of all of the others, watching into the night. I guessed he was watching to make sure no more orcs or any other monsters came and attacked us again. I guess that relieved some of my anxiety, because he would alert us if there was any danger of another attack.

I was glad, but yet not glad that I had turned my back to the dark forest. I was on the outskirts of the camp. I was never really afraid of the dark, or anything like that. I wasn't usually afraid to be in darkness, because I was almost always in darkness. I guess if you don't make that much money, not paying the electric bill isn't the biggest issue. So we usually didn't have any light other than candles in our appartment. I also liked to look at the dark as a two-sided strategy. I couldn't see anything if someone was there, but they couldn't see me either. Many of my childhood hiding places had been dark places, like the basement of our apartment building. But as many times as it had saved me from some fear, I wasn't friends with the dark. I didn't _like_ it, but sometimes it worked as my advantage.

My eyelids were becoming very droopy and heavy. I tried to stay awake, but I couldn't move around, because then Legolas would know I was still awake and on guard. I wasn't sure why I thought this was so bad, because when I thought about it later, I realized that it wouldn't really matter whether he knew or not. _Just keep your eyes open…._

I awoke with a start, angry with myself that I hadn't managed to fall asleep. I couldn't remember how I hadn't caught myself. _Oh well.__ Damn, it's cold._ I drew a breath, then let it out. The air was so cold that my breath formed an icy mist. I squirmed deeper into Boromir and Legolas' cloaks, but this didn't help at all. My feet were very cold. And I felt as if my ankle brace was cutting off the circulation in my right foot. It wasn't too tight, but it was preventing my foot from moving. I rubbed my arms underneath the material, really wishing I'd brought a sweatshirt or something.

"She appears no different from another human woman," said a quiet voice. I jumped before I realized it was Aragorn's from the darkness. He was beyond the place where my head lay, close enough for me to hear him, but far enough from him to not be able to see him when I lifted my head a little.

"But yet she is different," another voice finished for him softly. I recognized Legolas' voice, which seemed more musical, if you could call a voice that, compared to Aragorn's. I tried not to hold my breath. _Just breath nice and normal and they won't hear you._ I was afraid that if I held my breath and had to suck in a gulp of air, Legolas would hear it. He had some hearing, that guy. I allowed myself to move a little, because it was very dark, and once again, since I couldn't see them, they obviously couldn't see me.

"That will determine your decision," he continued, "for your suspicions may be correct or they may be incorrect."

"What would you have me do?" Aragorn asked. His voice was almost bitter, as if he didn't like being uncertain. Well, I could understand that. I hated to be uncertain. Just like that moment. I was _uncertain_ because they seemed to be talking about me. There were no other people that could be described as a 'she' in this group save for me. But as much as I hated people talking about me, I was just so tired of it. I didn't even want to hear what they were saying anymore. Because it was usually the same thing, and I'd heard it countless times before.

However, I didn't want to sleep while they talked about me. I didn't want to be completely off guard if they decided to try and pull something. So I lay awake, and this time I made sure I stayed awake.

"That is not for me to decide," Legolas murmured quietly, in a soft whisper. His voice was so quiet even when he talked that I could hardly hear him, and I actually caught myself straining to hear what he was saying. I was listening in on their conversation. I couldn't help but want to hear what they were saying, which was exactly what I was tired of doing. I guess I still wanted to hear what people were saying; I was just tired of wanting to listen.

"Then tell me as if it was your decision," Aragorn insisted. He wanted advice, and I knew he also wanted consultation from a friend. _Funny, how I can read everyone but myself.__ Real funny._

"I believe she is different," Legolas confirmed. "Her expressions are foreign, as is her mode of dress. But the crucial fact is that she obviously thinks we are strange. We are the foreign beings, we have a foreign language. We are different."

I listened to this, and found that I was very amused. _Well, _duh_, of course you're weird. You call yourself a goddamn elf. Please tell me how that's not weird._

I heard Aragorn give a little sigh of amusement. "Yes, we were… what had she said? 'Driving her up a wall?' Such a peculiar expression. But as peculiar as she is, there is no way to be certain that she is his daughter."

My eyes popped, and I could feel my right eye twitching. _Whoa, wait a minute- Back up- His daughter? Whose daughter?_ I really had to restrain myself from jumping all over the place. I wanted to jump up and demand that they tell me what they were talking about. But I managed to restrain myself, though with much effort. As corny as it sounded, I actually felt as though my whole body was shaking with some exhilaration. I wasn't even sure what they were talking about. But I was shaking like some little kid at six-o-clock on Christmas day.

"This is true," Legolas said softly. "But if you were to choose your original proposal, you have no option but to accept your fault."

"But this is only if she is his daughter. This I know. The circumstances seem to reveal the truth. The key would be safe with the child in her distant dimension. Until now, if she possesses it."

I couldn't understand all of this, of course. I had just sort of stated to eavesdrop in the middle of their conversation. So, naturally, I had absolutely no idea what was going on. Except that they might have been talking about my father. And keys and distant dimensions, or something like that. I really hoped they were substituting those words for another phrase, for the sake of my sanity. This was all very out there. I'd always dreamed of different worlds and crap like that. But I was young, and all young children dreamed about different worlds and planets where they'd meet cool and interesting people. Or things, whatever they imagined.

There was obviously something very valuable involved. I guessed that whoevery they were talking about had possession of it sometime, or maybe he knew where it was or who had it, and someone else wanted it. Maybe it was some key, because he had said something about a key. Maybe it was a key to a room full of money in some underground vault or something. And maybe the daughter knew something about it? I wasn't sure, but if that was the case, I would have felt a little better. Because I didn't know anything about anything valuable, and I definitely didn't own anything worth more than ten dollars.

_So they can't be talking about me. Nothing to worry about. Poor girl, whoever they _are_ talking about. I feel bad for her._ On one hand, I was glad that I couldn't possibly be the one they suspected me to be, because then I wouldn't have to worry about some huge problem that I wasn't even involved in. But, that would mean that they weren't talking about my father. It didn't surprise me so much, because I knew that every good possibility came with a bad possibility. But I was still a little disappointed that they weren't talking about him.

_Wait- What the hell am I talking about? Different dimensions? Keys? Bad guys? Come on, this is your classic daydream!_ I couldn't feel more stupid then I did at that moment. How could I even begin to think that they were being serious? How did I even know this wasn't some wacked up video game trivia? And worst of all, how could I insert myself into the stupid fantasy?

"-why she is here. Or how, for that matter," Aragorn said, his quiet voice failing to interrupt my thoughts in time. Their conversation might have been wacked, but I still wanted to listen. It wouldn't hurt to just fantasize for one night, would it? "There is not much of a possibility that she would know how to operate it. She would be too young."

"And too unknowing," Legolas added. "Another world. She would not be familiar with anything in this dimension. Nor would she be aware of the fact that the Enemy knows she is here and that the Dark Lord is undoubtedly in search of her possession."

_Ach, there's that 'dark lord' crap again. I thought you were crazy before, but now I see you are _both_ nuts. Oh well, it doesn't matter. Whoever's looking for whatever they're looking for, I don't have it._ I was saying it over and over in my head, almost as if I was trying to reassure myself of this fact. Because if I didn't do this, I would be submerged in my doubts. But what if I did have this thing they were looking for? What if I really was in some different… dimension? _Do you even realize how incredibly stupid you sound? There's no such thing as a different dimension. There just isn't. And even if there were, there would be no way to get there. It would be impossible. This is crazy! Oh, crud, I just missed what Aragorn said._

"Then that is your decision?" Legolas asked.

"I believe that we should find out her father's name, and if she possesses the key," Aragorn said firmly, but softly. "If she is his daughter, then she is in great danger. Arnatur Veralidaine did not send his daughter to another dimension for the sake of amusement." I heard Legolas murmur his quiet agreement, but I wasn't really listening anymore.

'_Arnatur__ Veralidaine did not send his daughter to another dimension for the sake of amusement.' Arnatur Veralidaine. Veralidaine. Lalaine Veralidaine. Veralidaine._ I continued to repeat the name over and over in my mind, until I had said it so many times that I wondered if he had actually said it. Had he said 'Veralidaine' or had I said it so many times to make myself believe he had? Despite my earlier efforts, my breath was now coming out in short, heavy spurts.

_He'd said it! I heard him!_ But as surprised as I was to hear him say my surname, my thoughts drifted to the name that he had said preceding it. _Arnatur__…. What a weird name…._ If it was a name, I had never heard anyone called by that. It sounded strange to my ears, yet somehow it sounded very familiar. Could that be the name of my father? _Of course not! Your dad's dead, you idiot. He's dead. He's never coming back. He's dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Gone. Don't be so gullible._ But I couldn't think of many people who had my name. I remembered lots of times when I had been forced to look up information on my name, my family, my origin. And I always got awful grades on those assignments, because I just couldn't find anything. Both my names had absolutely no root term.

_But wouldn't it explain everything? It would, wouldn't it? The only thing that wouldn't explain itself is the existence of another dimension._ The more I thought about it, the more I plunged deeper into my fantasy world. Deep down, I doubted that I was in a different dimension from Earth. But my wishful thinking was making me sigh with content and delight. _A whole new start, that would be. It'd explain everything: why I don't have parents, why they never had any records, why my whole family never had any records or history or _anything_; why I never felt like I belonged…._ I realized my mistake as soon as I thought of this. And I knew I only wanted to believe something that wasn't true and that would never be true. All of these false beliefs because I wanted to run away from my mess of a life. I wanted my make believe mom to take me to her house with the flowers and the big windows.

_Then does that mean that this whole thing is a joke? Some joke…._ But they had sounded so serious. Where they just horsing around? _I hate this whole thing! I just want to go home and forget I ever met these crazy people!_ I didn't want to daydream anymore. This whole thing was wrapping me in it, and I had some crazy suspicion that if I didn't get out, I would be stuck, just like depression.

"Then our task is clear," Aragorn said, and I almost cursed out loud when I realized I had just missed a good five minutes of their conversation. "We must observe everything possible about this young woman, and without her knowing, if possible. If she is his daughter, we must not lead her to the village, and certainly she should not be informed of her situation until she under safe supervision."

"The Lady of the Light," Legolas said, as if he had read Aragorn's mind.

I frowned, not listening to Aragorn's reply. I hadn't thought of that. Now not only were they themselves involved in this crazy fantasy, but they were going to force me to be involved. They obviously thought I had this thing they were looking for. I hadn't even thought that I probably wouldn't be going home if they really thought I had whatever it was. I hadn't thought of what this all meant. I hadn't thought too far ahead to think that if they thought I was involved, they wouldn't allow me to leave. _"We must not lead her to the village."_ I sucked in my breath, suddenly remembering something that Aragorn had said. _"The key would be safe with the child in her distant dimension. Until now, if she possesses it." A key…._ I wondered if he was speaking literally, or if it was just a word substitution.

I stared straight ahead, buried in the two cloaks and lying on my side, while my cold fingers caressed the silver chain around my neck. The iciness of my touch slid down to where my father's key lay on the extra material of my shirt. I shivered, this time not only because I was cold, but also because I was afraid.

_Was he speaking literally?_ This was the dividing factor. If he wasn't speaking literally, I had nothing to worry about. But if he was, then I definitely had a lot of things to worry about. Suddenly something was different. Aragorn and Legolas were silent. I didn't dare move an inch now, because if they found out that I was eavesdropping, I was in for it.

I thought about just taking the stupid necklace off and putting it in one of their packs. _Then I could run away and be done what all this._ I just wanted to go home. But I couldn't bring myself to move and take off my dad's possession. I couldn't just give my only treasure to some people, who could be lying and joking, by the way, and just walk off as if nothing important had happened. I just couldn't do it.

Panicking, I tried to think of what else I could do. I didn't have many advantages. Most of them belonged to those people. There were more of them. As fast as I thought I was before, they were much faster. They had all kinds of weapons, while I had nothing but my own body and a little pocket knife in my backpack. And I was scared.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! 


	8. Running

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	9. Like Walking With Crocodile Dundee

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	10. Explanations

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	11. Little Surprises

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	12. The Guardians of Lothlorien

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	13. Left Behind

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	14. Life Goes On

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	15. A Lesson

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	16. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, save for my own character(s).

**Author:** born to be hanged _a.k.a. Meltintalle_

**Title:** The Key

**Rating:** PG-13 (for adult themes and language) (R chapter is possible with a warning)

**Genre(s):** Action/Adventure/Humor/Romance (romance is minor)

**Compact Summary:** The fourth theme of the Ainulindalë presented the creation of portals leading to different dimensions, opened by permission of Eru and the Ainur with the use of a silver key. The temporary holder of the key passed it to his daughter before he died. Sauron's possession of the key would provide endless allies, a safe haven, and supplies. Full summary inside. R&R!

**Author's Note:** Thanks to all my reviewers!

I couldn't get an asterisk to work for the author's notes at the end of the chapters. So if you're confused about something, i'll probably be down there, just not marked.

_italicized text_ indicates a character's thoughts

A special note of thanks to my beta, **Satori (Satori Blackthorn)**

* * *

**This chapter is under revision.**


	17. Author's Note

Hola everyone!  
  
So sorry for the long wait. Seems I've been doing that with all my stories, doesn't it? Well, sorry to say that this isn't a new chapter. I'm still where I was about two months ago. Anyway, I'd just like to say that I've been revising this story. Chapters one through seven (or the summary through chapter five) are currently revised and posted. I changed a lot of things. Basically, though, I surrounded added a LOT more description and a lot more depth to Lalaine's character.  
  
One thing I would advise anyone to read is the summary. I basically rewrote the it, and I think it's a lot more agreeable with Tolkien's writing. And I explained myself some more. I have a bad habit of being vague and expecting everyone to know what I'm talking about. lol  
  
Anyway, that's all I really have to say. I don't have much time to write nowadays, because I'm so bogged down with schoolwork. And right now I'm working on the revision of the previous chapters, but I'm done with the worst parts, so the rest should be relatively easier. I'll try to find time to revise and work on the current chapter. Thanks!  
  
~*~Meltintalle 


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